New Origins
by SEZwho94
Summary: AU. What was Prime before he was Prime? Who was Jazz before the war? How did Ratchet come to be one of the best medics in the universe? Was Sideswipe always a fun-loving prankster? This fic takes us back, beginning just before the war. G1/WFC
1. 1 Optronix

**This is an AU. What was Prime before he was Prime? Who was Jazz before the war? How did Ratchet come to be one of the best medics in the universe? Was Sideswipe always a fun-loving prankster? This fic takes us back, beginning just before the war. G1/War for Cybertron influences**

**This fic is not recreating the history of G1 or WFC. It is it's own universe in it of itself, but there will be many similar events in accordance to canon. I hope you all enjoy! :D**

Optronix: 1

"_Whatever you are, be a good one."_

_~Abraham Lincoln_

"Congrats on the promotion Orion!"

Optronix looked up from his suddenly larger stack of datapads in his new office, only to see one of his brother grinning with just his optics in the doorway, looking very foolish. He snorted at his masked companion.

"Please leave me be Ultra Magnus." Optronix moaned, but the other would not hear it.

He glared as the pure white mech approached his side.

"Disengage your battle mask, it's not necessary." Optronix snorted with disapproval.

"Are you sure about that?" The other teased, but reluctantly pulled back his blue mask, only to reveal a face plate that eerily resembled Optronix's own; though his possessed a wicked smirk.

"Cut it out Ultra Magnus, I'm busy." Optronix continued sorting through his new heavier work load.

"Oh come on Orion, don't start getting uptight on me now. Responsibility doesn't mean you have to turn into a prick." Ultra Magnus's deep yellow optics seemed to glow in amusement.

Optronix studied his brother momentarily, wondering just how serious he was. His foolish grin only widened, accentuating the blue glowing lines cutting across the bridge of his nose and lower jaw. His own face plate had similar markings, only his were red. Many found it to be an attractive and rare trait, normally found in bots of 'higher pedigrees' but Optronix thought little of it.

"You're giving me that, 'holy crap we look the same', look again." Ultra Magnus frowned and swiftly pinched the bridge of his sibling's nose.

"Stop that." Optronix pulled back.

"You're stressing right now aren't ya?"

Optronix made no comment but to sit down in his new chair and set his head in his servos. Ultra Magnus only chuckled with a shake of his head.

"Don't let Prowl find out, he'll find some reason to demote ya again so he can take over."

"And why would he wish to be Second in Command? I thought he was pleased as Sub-Commander?" Optronix lifted his optics to meet his brother's.

"Prowl? Pleased? About anything?" Ultra Magnus blinked stupidly. "Are we talking about the same mech here?"

This finally got a small chuckle out of Optronix, and Ultra Magnus finally seemed to tone down in his sheer silliness, if only for a moment.

"Come on my brother, we're going out to celebrate." Before Optronix could protest, he continued, "that work can wait 'til morning, I'll even help some if ya get hung-over."

"Ultra Magnus, I am not getting myself wasted on my first day as SIC." The red and blue mech stated flatly.

"So be it, but you're coming with me, even if I have to drag you out by your pedes." The mech threatened.

_I don't think I can win this one. _Optronix blew out a sigh of defeat, his intakes catching slightly to resemble a grumble.

He got to his feet, and the two large mechs plodded out into the halls, passing a few bots that offered some form of congratulations to Optronix. Ultra Magnus gave him a playful nudge at all his popularity.

"I still don't know why Sentinel chose you. You're just a grunt." Ultra Magnus laughed, rewarding himself with another glare from his brother.

"If I'm a grunt, you must be the rust beneath my pede." Optronix suddenly smirked at his own comeback.

"Ha-ha, good one." His sibling replied sarcastically.

They made it outside the base and into the bright light of day. They were located near the center of Iacon, with many booming businesses and busy transformers going about their daily lives, completely oblivious to the two new mechs on the streets.

The Autobot HQ was relatively new compared to most of the buildings surrounding them, as well was the faction, but so far it had been well accepted, especially since they lowered the crime rate and gang population. Recently a new gang had sprung up, but they were an elusive bunch, keeping both their names and goals a secret, as well as preferring to remain in Kaon on the opposite side of Cybertron. Optronix knew it was only a matter of time before someone was dispatched there to better assess the situation.

"Hello, Cybertron to Optronix, come in Optronix, we need you." Ultra Magnus waved his hand in front of his brother's blue optics.

"Hey," he started.

"You do that too much." Ultra Magnus groaned.

"Do what?" he raised an optic ridge in confusion.

"Drift off in thought, it's like you're not all there half the time."

Optronix had no reply to that, so simply kept walking. Ultra Magnus saw that he wasn't going to get any farther, so changed the subject.

"If we transform we'll get there faster."

Optronix nodded, liking the idea of a faster pace to keep him focused on the task at hand, even if it was just a pleasurable outing.

"You're lucky I'm off duty early this evening." Optronix stated as they zoomed along, identical alt modes save their colors.

"I know I'm lucky, that's why I'm the one that didn't get promoted." Ultra Magnus rubbed in the fact that neither of them liked leading others, even in a small organization such as the Autobots.

"Well, as long as the lucky one is paying, I suppose I can live with that." Optronix laughed and accelerated quickly.

"Hey!" his brother shouted in protest, swiftly speeding after him despite his bulk.

The large mechs swerved through traffic, getting many honks and distasteful yells. However they did not once falter, having skills and maneuverability far beyond the average mech, thanks to both training and natural 'born' talent. A few bipedal bots on the side of the street could only watch in disbelief as two mechs far too large for such agility weaved through traffic effortlessly.

"_Here it is._" Ultra Magnus suddenly informed via com link.

Optronix did not slow down like his brother however, heading straight for the club and a few alarmed bots. They scattered as his treads contacted the metallic sidewalk. With a graceful flip Optronix launched his alt into the air and flipped, transforming back into his tall bipedal form and landing easily on his pedes. He only had to skid slightly, but didn't even scuff the ground beneath him.

"Show off." Ultra Magnus transformed in a more conventional manner and glared.

"How else will I have my fun?" The red and blue mech smiled innocently.

"Oh clamp it you big lug." Ultra Magnus rolled his optics before striding over and swinging an affectionate arm over Optronix's heavily plated shoulders.

"Big?" they strode inside, only to be greeted by pulsing music and flamboyant femmes.

"We're of equal size."

Ultra Magnus just laughed at him, and quickly took off to the bar, ordering high grade for the both of them. Optronix opticed the femmes dancing out on the floor, many paired up with mechs but just as many dancing with each other. These ones worried him. A few caught notice of him standing alone and cast flirty waves, but Optronix quickly steered his way over to Ultra Magnus, who had been watching him smugly the entire time.

"Stop that." Optronix snatched his offered fuel, slightly flinching at its potency as he took a swig.

"I can't believe you don't like the attention." Ultra Magnus rolled his own yellow optics.

"You don't either." He combated.

"Correction; I don't like the attention of co-workers ranked beneath me. They stress the frack out of me. But a femme…that's a different story." As he said this he managed to catch one particularly flattering femme's attention. She returned a small smile, a bit more nervous than her companions around her who were suddenly giggling and whispering to her.

"Do you really have to do that?" Optronix demanded.

"Hey, just because you've settled for one gal already doesn't mean I have to. You my lucky bastard managed to find your femme without even looking. I don't seem to have that supernatural skill." Ultra Magnus shrugged, still throwing smirks and winks at the shy femme.

"So you admit you're tired of dropping femmes like hot irons?" Optronix narrowed his optics suspiciously.

"Don't be putting words in my mouth Orion." He suddenly stood up and made his way over to the femme, Optronix shaking his head after him the entire time.

_Great, now I'm all alone. _

"Excuse me Sir, but I think I may be lost. I was supposed to meet my friend here, but I can't find him. Have you seen a large red and blue bot with red glowing marks on his faceplate?" A feminine voice suddenly spoke up at his side.

Optronix turned in surprise, only to find a pink femme grinning up at him happily. Her blue optics glowed with amusement.

"Elita!" He stumbled back in slight surprise.

She giggled at his reaction, only to quickly wrap her arm around his far larger one. This caused a small smile to tug up on Optronix's lip plates without realizing it.

"I take it Ultra Magnus didn't inform you I'd be here?" She tilted her head, searching the dancing crowd for the said white mech.

"No, it appears that fact slipped his mind." Optronix grumbled, trying to find his brother as well.

"That seems to becoming a problem with clones nowadays." She frowned and shook her head like she was truly disappointed.

"We're brothers." Optronix snarled, touchy about the subject of actually having a clone and not a true twin. It had to do with the spark being artificially separated immediately after creation, and not split through natural processes.

"Oh don't get so defensive. You're both different mechs, I know that better than anyone." She assured, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"You know that's not it." Optronix sighed, wincing as he took another gulp of high-grade.

"I don't care who the clone is." Her dazzling smile faded into absolute seriousness. "And besides, we're here to be having fun."

"So Ultra Magnus invited you?"

Elita rolled her optics. "No, I told Ultra Magnus to get your aft out of that forsaken Autobot building and live for a bit again. Promotion be slagged." Elita sneered, never having liked Optronix's new job.

"It keeps the credits coming and tank full." Optronix countered.

Elita snatched the high-grade from his servo and gulped down the remainder far faster than Optronix thought possible. An obvious buzz lit up her features, but she shoved it aside, however fluttering her optics like she wasn't adjusting to the lighting.

"I just want you to be happy Orion." She frowned, but saw her argument was getting her no where. The large SIC was just too stubborn.

"Oh, let's just go dance or something." She finally sighed.

Optronix nodded and escorted her out, a few interested mechs and femmes watching, both interested in the pair. They were both attractive by transformers standards, so twinges of jealousy and lust hung through the single members of the crowd. Optronix tried to pay them little mind as he danced with Elita, who was suddenly having a blast. He smiled at her, twisting her around easily thanks to his strength and size.

The music increased in volume, and Optronix finally noticed Ultra Magnus dancing not far away, finally having won over the shy femme from earlier. He seemed to be showing off while at the same time teaching her a few tricks, making her laugh though Optronix couldn't hear it.

"_Optronix report._" A cold voice suddenly rang through his com.

"Prowl? What's wrong?" He stiffened, catching Elita's attention.

"_We have a situation downtown, and you are nearest to the scene. We need you and Ultra Magnus to keep the situation under control until backup can arrive._" Prowl spoke flatly.

"Erm…right. Just what is the situation?" To Optronix it felt awkward having to be Prowl's superior, when he was so used to taking orders from him without question.

"_We cannot confirm at this time, but our best estimate is the new gang from Kaon._" When Prowl said 'our', Optronix knew he actually meant 'my', and Prowl was seldom wrong.

"Okay, I understand. Ultra Magnus and I will set out immediately. Can you confirm the exact location?" Elita frowned up at Optronix, knowing their fun had ended.

"_It shouldn't be far from your current position, simply head due south for five klicks._" Prowl instructed.

_How does he know where I am? _Optronix wondered privately.

"Heading out now." Optronix disconnected, only to meet the optics of one sad femme. "Sorry Elita, duty calls."

"More gang nonsense?" She sneered.

"Unfortunately." Optronix nodded, and then contacted his brother and informed him of the situation via com. His deflated reaction was hard not to miss.

"We'll see each other another time Elita, I promise." Optronix reassured.

"Yeah, yeah ya big bot, just go; save some lives or something." Elita shooed.

He grinned and gave her a gentle kiss on her brow plate, catching her off guard. Then quickly he headed for the door, followed by Ultra Magnus shortly.

"Of all the times for a gang attack, it has to be NOW!" Ultra Magnus was furious, and Optronix almost feared for the lives of the criminals they were about to intercept.

"Calm yourself, we've vorns to make up for just one night." Optronix reassured.

Ultra Magnus threw him an unconvinced glare and then transformed, forcing the red and blue mech to do the same. They sped along easily, having far less traffic on the roads than earlier. In fact, they were almost empty save themselves.

_The Enforcers must have already informed the public of impending danger. _Optronix increased his speed, feeling confident he wouldn't accidentally pummel a bystander.

"_See anything yet?_" Ultra Magnus had somehow fallen behind and was struggling to keep up.

"_No, no sign of any…_" A ground shaking boom literally made Optronix's treads leave the ground, and if it weren't for his greater weight would have been blown back by a fierce gale.

Transforming he looked up just in time to see a building topple in on itself, sending up dust and debris everywhere and blinding him.

"Argh!" Optronix stepped back as if it would help clear his vision.

"_What in the pit?_" Ultra Magnus gasped from somewhere behind. "_Are you okay?_"

"So far," Optronix coughed dust from his intakes, but it didn't seem to help. A medic would surely have to suck the thick material out once this situation had been dealt with.

A shadowy figure approached cautiously, making Optronix tense. He expelled a relieved sigh upon seeing it was just his brother. More coughing was followed by his gesture, and he barely caught a look of concern from Ultra Magnus.

"That slag can't be good on the intakes."

"No kidding." Optronix spat out what he could in disgust.

"Now how did a gang get an entire building to collapse? And why topple an abandoned one at that?" Ultra Magnus returned his attention to the situation at hand.

"I'm just glad it was unoccupied." The SIC retorted.

"Weird, I can't detect any mechs at all nearby. Do you think they're jamming their signal?" Ultra Magnus waved floating dust from his faceplate as he tried to peer through it.

"This seems awfully advanced for a gang." Optronix clicked his battle mask into place, as did his brother.

Then another boom rang out and a different abandoned building fell, sending even more dust into the air. Optronix and Ultra Magnus ran blindly in the direction of the destruction, but couldn't see anything through the thick unsettled dust.

Optronix watched as his brother preformed a scan, but he came up empty.

"You don't think they're just playing with us; do you?" Ultra Magnus wondered aloud.

"I don't care what they're doing, it needs to be stopped before someone gets hurt." Optronix started to stalk forward, estimating where the next abandoned building was.

"Yes well, I've got a feeling that we're the only ones who are going to get slagged here." His white clone voiced as he followed closely to Optronix's chassis.

"Not scared are you?" Optronix dared a smirk behind his mask.

"Terrified," Ultra Magnus smirked back with only his optics.

Optronix turned to glare back at his brother's yellow optics when another shudder caused both sure footed mechs to fall to the ground. The new wave of dust was so thick Optronix couldn't make out his sibling's glowing optics, and could only identify him by the sounds of his coughing. Optronix's own intakes rejected the increased volume of dust entering them, and took several precious klicks clearing them.

"Ack, that one was a doozy." Ultra Magnus managed between coughs. "You all right?"

"Never better." Optronix straightened back up and tried to peer through the thick floating debris. He didn't have much luck.

"These guys are really starting to get on my last neural line. The cowards won't even show themselves." Ultra Magnus snarled furiously.

"Calm yourself, we might walk into a trap if we aren't careful."

"Trap, trap! How could this random terrorist attack be a trap? They had no idea who'd come in to investigate the situation." The white mech fumed.

"Most don't care about that. Prowl's crashed many times because of their illogical movements and motives…erm, ignore that last part." Optronix realized his slip up in top secret information. No one but Prowl's superiors and special exceptions were supposed to know of his logic circuit glitch, and he had blabbed it to his brother without a second thought.

"Already forgotten." Ultra Magnus's voice was hard.

It was the one thing Optronix could always depend on. No matter what the two told each other, they could always trust the other to keep it a secret. Even if the secret was bad enough to get one of them arrested, they'd never speak of it.

Another loud boom tore through the silence, shaking the ground out from beneath both large mechs yet again. Optronix gritted his dental plates in annoyance, tired of falling on his aft.

_What if these are just radio controlled bombs? _Optronix widened his blue optics in wonder.

"Okay, this dust is really starting to annoy." Ultra Magnus coughed in frustration.

"Magnus, do you think we can patch through to Prowl?" Optronix stood up once again and tried to see his sibling through the heavy particles in the air.

"Well, there's no harm in trying."

Optronix immediately opened up his link, hoping Prowl would pick it up on the other end. Finally through heavy static the connection was made.

"_Optronix? What is…sit…tion out th…?_" Prowl asked.

"It's difficult to say. A series of bombs have gone off in the abandoned buildings and there have been no signs of life, hostile or bystander. Is there any way you can verify what is going on?" Optronix coughed a few more times as he spoke.

"_We sent…Powerglide to observe…stand by._" Prowl responded and then fizzled out.

"So?" his white clone approached his side, somehow having found him in the dark coat of dust.

"Powerglide's making an aerial sweep." Optronix replied.

"Ah, I've always liked that little show off." Ultra Magnus snickered.

Optronix just shook his head and waited for a response from somebot. His reply came sooner than expected.

"_Powerglide to Optronix, ya read?_" Powerglide's voice came in through Optronix's com.

"Loud and clear, report."

"_It's pretty crazy up here. The bombs are making the buildings topple in a pattern. It almost looks like its supposed to be an insignia or faction of some sort!_" Powerglide's voice rose in enthusiasm and quickly gave Optronix a processor ache.

"Calm down Powerglide. Can you predict where they'll strike next?" Optronix hoped to reason with the enthusiastic red aerial bot.

"_Well…try five klicks ahead of you and make a sharp right. Three more klicks and the building should collapse on top of you._" Powerglide estimated quickly.

"All right, Optronix out." The red and blue bot cut off connection and nodded to his brother, who he could just barely see now.

"Stay on my tail, and don't get ahead of yourself. Powerglide said they're making a pattern, and we're in the middle of it."

Ultra Magnus nodded quietly, having no intention of disobeying his brother in their dangerous situation. They both transformed and drove along at a cautious pace, opticing the buildings they passed warily. Just because Powerglide thought he knew which building would fall next, didn't mean he was right.

_Strange how quiet it is between explosions. _Optronix couldn't help but marvel.

"_Hurry it up…sir…the explosions seem to be timed with one another._" Powerglide channeled back in.

Optronix increased his speed, with Ultra Magnus close behind. They skidded to a halt at the building Powerglide far above was circling, though keeping a healthy berth incase of its sudden collapse.

"Powerglide, can you see any signs of forced entry?" Optronix asked.

"There's a broken window up here, but its not very large. The bot would have to be smaller than a mini to get through." Powerglide shouted back instead of using his communicator.

Optronix narrowed his optics suspiciously and looked back at his brother. His clone shrugged, unable to wrap his processing unit around it.

"Well the bomb couldn't have been thrown through a random window if they're creating a pattern. It may very well be a minibot." Optronix murmured more to himself.

"It sure would help with stealth." Ultra Magnus agreed, studying the structure looming before them. "But I'm thinking that these are all timed events now, and there's no real bots here. We're just running in circles with all these explosions."

"They're creating a chaotic situation while leaving a mark from the safety of their homes. This goes beyond gang violence." Optronix switched his com link to contact Prowl.

"Optronix to Prowl."

"_What is your status?"_ Prowl wasn't coming in any clearer, but Optronix could manage.

"These bombs have all been set and timed to explode in sequence of one another. Powerglide reports they're forming a pattern of some sort. These are no random acts of violence by a gang. They're sending us a message." Optronix explained to his subordinate.

"_You're cert…n of this?_" Prowl asked skeptically.

"I will be in less than a nanoclick." Optronix reported, watching the building before him warily.

With a sudden burst of sound and light, the building toppled in on itself right before the three Transformer's optics before dust flew up and blinded them all. Powerglide whizzed up higher to escape it, hollering about the manner of the explosion.

_This confirms it then, _Optronix thought, _these are all timed._

"Prowl, there is no doubt in my processor that this is all a well devised plan."

The Sub-Commander did not respond, but Optronix knew he was probably springing out of his dull office and rushing off to their superior Sentinel Prime. He sighed, but suddenly started hacking once again, the dust already lodged inside his intakes ruffling his filters and rendering them useless.

"Powerglide, any sign of where the next explosion is gonna be?" Ultra Magnus shouted up to the aerial.

The proud red bot hesitated, and doubled back through the air several times. Optronix raised a brow plate, the only physical sign of his impatience.

"Oh Primus! Move, move, move! The building behind ya is going down next!" Powerglide shouted in earnest.

He shout came too late, and another bright boom echoed out behind both mechs. Ultra Magnus and Optronix spun to see the great abandoned building tilting forward, and suddenly come crashing down, straight at them. Optronix shifted into battle mode and quickly shove his sibling to the side, hard enough that he fell and rolled the rest of the way to safety. Chunks of metal slammed against Optronix's shoulders and tripped up his pedes, making him crash to the ground before he could also escape. Then his vision was cut off as blocks of metal and wire piled up over top of him.

_Why do we have so many slagging abandoned buildings? _Optronix couldn't help but wonder as his head took a blow, and he slowly started fading out.

_I hate my job. _Optronix coughed feebly under the collapsed building's great weight, and then completely offlined.


	2. 2 Jazz

Jazz: 2

"_The supreme accomplishment is to blur the line between work and play."_

_~Arnold Toynbee_

"Hey Jazz, check it out!" Blaster exclaimed, pointing at the monitor in the break room.

Jazz glanced at his red friend and quickly followed his servo towards the monitor, only to blink in surprise at the destruction on the screen. From the newscaster's reports the abandoned buildings on the far side of the city were being blown to pieces; forming a pattern no less.

"I don' believe it." Jazz walked over and joined his friend as they watched in slight shock.

"Why in the Pit would anybot be blowin' up abandoned buildings?" Blaster shook his head.

"Beats me." Jazz shrugged and then left, not really interested. It was only a bunch of useless buildings after all. Plus he had better things to do, like his job.

Many would say Jazz hated his job, being a hacker for a major corporation with hardly any down time, but a select few knew those were just rumors, like Blaster. Jazz's work was his play, simply because he could blast his music as loud as he wanted, all the while chatting with his friends.

Blaster once again joined Jazz's side, watching him silently as he bypassed a strain of firewalls and got straight into the coded information they wanted. Jazz grinned to himself triumphantly and rocked back in his chair while Blaster quickly downloaded the data and transmitted it to their boss on a special channel only he could access.

"Hey, I thought I'd find you two still up here. All finished with work?" A familiar voice asked from behind.

Jazz glanced over his shoulder only to see a minibot standing in the doorway to the exit. He was mostly green with a few yellow stripes racing up his frame. A thick chevron stretched across his helm and sat low on his nose, but it didn't seem to inhibit his sight at all. The mech's grin seemed to gleam in the low light Jazz fondly worked in.

"Sure am, just gotta shut down the old compute an' we'll be off." Jazz grinned and did just so.

Just then another mech ducked his head inside the room, being of equal size as Jazz, only completely blue. Nothing about him wasn't blue; but it was all many different shades, including his dental plates. A chrome finish gleamed on his plating, making Jazz raise an optic ridge.

"Hey, I thought I told ya ta wait on that finish Doubledown." Jazz strode up to him and jabbed at the mech's shinier armor.

"Sorry mate, but Cut Edge was being insistent." Doubledown backed up and pointed at the minibot by his side.

"You liar!" Cut Edge snarled, looking like he was about to launch himself at the larger bot.

"Yo mechs, calm down, all 'ight? It's not that big of a deal." Jazz quickly stepped between the two, placing a friendly hand on Cut Edge's shoulder.

The minibot just grumbled and rolled his blue optics. Doubledown blew out a relieved sigh and threw Jazz a grateful look. The good natured mech just winked a red optic with a smirk.

"Now come on, I need a new paint job fer myself." Jazz indicated to his slightly dulled white frame.

Blaster rolled his optics from behind, as if Jazz wouldn't catch it. Jazz grew a wicked grin and quickly swung his arm around his slightly shorter friend.

"Oh come on Blaster, we could get ya all prettied up to." Jazz offered.

"No thank you, this color works for me." Blaster rejected, but slowly managed a grin at his good natured friend.

Jazz quickly strode out and was followed by his friends, all of whom were curious about what type of paint job Jazz wanted. He hadn't spoken much of it, just stating he wanted a new look.

They transformed and zoomed off once they hit the main road. Jazz's mode was sleek and fast, with Doubledown's nearly matching his own. The only difference was that Jazz had a sleek spoiler on the back which caught the wind in a unique way and made a hollow whistling sound when he went full speed. If he adjusted it slightly the tune would change, and he could make music. He had been yelled at by the Enforcers many times for 'disturbing the peace' with his unique sounds, but Jazz wouldn't change his alt, no matter what they threatened.

"Hey Jazz, are we going where I think we're going?" Blaster asked incredulously.

"If you you're thinking Track's place downtown, you would be correct." Jazz affirmed.

"That guy is such a perfectionist Jazz, we'll be there for VORNS!" Cut Edge groaned unenthusiastically.

"We won't be there for vorns Cutter, and besides, I want to look nice afterwards, not a mess of color." Jazz pointed out.

"Are you implying that my paint job is poorly done?" Cut Edge demanded.

"Nah mech, I never said anythang of the like." Jazz laughed and accelerated.

Cut Edge would have struggled to keep up more with Jazz and Doubledown, but Blaster was right there with him, so he wasn't too keen on wearing himself out. Blaster didn't have the fastest alt after all, being a rather rounded and bulky vehicle. It did however have one perk. He had external speakers mounted on the back, allowing him to blast any assortment of music for his friends. But of course the speakers weighed down his less then aero dynamic form and made him move at a more tedious pace as to not break them.

Jazz ended up beating all his companions and transformed with a few easy flips, which Doubledown mimicked as well. The two often worked at a night club together during their free time, simply because Doubledown loved to dance and Jazz loved to play with music. Seldom did the same song come on in one night when Jazz was there.

He entered the small but luxurious building once Cut Edge and Blaster had caught up, sending off a chime as he opened the door. Jazz paused and chimed the door again, much to his friend's amusement. Blaster also did it just for kicks.

Suddenly a blue mech appeared with a red faceplate and sleek helm design, looking slightly annoyed but equally amused.

"Jazz, you're late." Tracks tapped a pede on the floor, letting a scolding metallic tick ring out.

"Yeah, my apologies Tracks, work was running a little late today." Jazz shrugged with a smooth grin.

"I still cannot believe you work as a hacker. You are so much better suited to be a music artist." Tracks rolled his light blue optics and strode over, suddenly taking a key interest in Jazz's armor.

"Music's more of a hobby fer me ya know? Plus the creds I get where I work now don't get much better." Jazz smirked, making his friend's chuckle.

"Yes well, you're talents are still being wasted if you ask me." Tracks frowned, but suddenly grabbed Jazz's shoulder and began to steer him around back.

"He'll be done in about half a joor. Feel free to have a look around but please do not touch. The datapads and monitors are the only exception." Tracks informed and then pulled Jazz around a corner and into his work room.

This room was far less luxurious than the main lobby, being made of plain metal and having many paints smearing the walls and floor from frequent use. It was always a good sign though to see Track's work place a mess. It meant he was keeping busy and Jazz's total price would be cheaper. Of course Jazz wasn't worried about price.

"So Tracks, been keeping busy?" Jazz asked lightly as the blue winged mech measured the surface area of Jazz's armor so he could estimate the amount of paint he'd need. Though Tracks was more well known for designing armor and helms, he did paint jobs during his down time, which he seemed to enjoy immensely.

"Thus far. My usual clientele have been getting more bold in their designs lately, but they don't tell me why. Most of them are flyers you see, and you know how they are when it comes to dealing with grounded mechs." Tracks backed up and smiled.

"I thought those wings looked new." Jazz laughed and wiggled one of them.

Tracks stiffened but smiled, not really quiet as vain as everyone thought he was. He wiggled his other wing in response, getting a good laugh out of the red opticed mech.

"With these they won't dare leave me for some hooligan on the street to get their paint fixed up nice." Tracks winked.

"So you can really fly with those things?" Jazz tilted his head comically.

"They are not just a cheap decoration, I created them myself." Tracks scoffed, but then relaxed again. "Anyways, what type of paint job were you interested in?"

Jazz frowned slightly, looking down at his plain white color scheme, which couldn't even be called that.

"I'd like some contrast from all this white, ya know? It brings out my optics too much." Jazz didn't need to point but he did anyways.

_Why do I bother keeping red optics anyways? _Jazz thought to himself privately. _Oh yeah, cause I can't afford ta change 'em without the risk of goin' blind. _His optics were more sensitive than a regular bot's, making dealing with them tedious.

"Red can be a difficult color to deal with." Tracks purposefully rubbed his chin, showing off his handsomely painted faceplate.

"I was kinda thinking black and white, not just a solid color." Jazz shrugged.

Tracks hummed over the idea for a moment, his look reading he only half approved. Jazz grimaced as Tracks's faceplate grew even more serious.

"In my professional opinion, I think too much black would only make your optics stick out more. If you don't want bots noticing, I'd suggest a blue stripe for a softer contrast, and then accent it with red to take away all the focus on your optics." Tracks suggested, tracing possible patterns in the air over Jazz's form.

"Well, you are the expert." Jazz replied.

Tracks's faceplate lit up at that, and he quickly began to select his color palette, pausing only to ensure Jazz approved of the shade of blue. And then he set to work.

00000

Jazz strode out, grinning from audio to audio. Tracks trailed close behind him, still admiring his work. All of his friends sprang to their pedes, Cut Edge with his jaw slack while Doubledown was smiling in admiration. Blaster seemed content and met Jazz half way, giving him a good look over.

Jazz was no longer solid white, but had a slick black helm with a slight metallic flair, as well as his hands, lower legs and a few other choice places. On his chest plate a pleasant blue stripe zoomed upwards, which turned into a long stripe down his frame when he transformed into his alt. Then red lined the bottom of his chest plate as well as his door wings, which he wiggled in amusement. The red was the exact same shade as his optics, making them less distracting and greatly relieving Jazz.

"Wow Jazz, ya look good." Blaster complimented, and threw Tracks an approving nod.

The artistic mech simply grinned, glad his work was admired. Doubledown had taken a keen interest in the blue stripe running up Jazz, but the mech knew it was just because of his obsession with the color.

"So what do I owe ya?" Jazz asked, returning his focus on Tracks.

Tracks frowned and put a finger against his chin in thought. His optics scanned Jazz up and down, and he visibly ticked off numbers in his head.

"Five hundred ought to do it." Tracks seemed content with his price.

Cut Edge gasped and would have fallen over if Jazz's reflexes weren't so swift.

"That's…awfully cheap." Cut Edge gasped like he was overheating.

_And I thought he was a credit pincher. _Jazz half shook his head.

"Gee thanks Tracks. Things must be going real well fer ya then." Jazz quickly began to count out the credits, while his friends just stared in awe.

"Well enough." Tracks smirked back, and took the offered credits, seeing that there was a heavy tip as well.

"See ya around Tracks." Jazz waved over his shoulder as he left, followed by his slowly recuperating companions.

Before he could transform however Doubledown placed a firm hand on his newly painted shoulder, half admiring it for a second before shaking his head.

"You knew he'd be cheap with you, didn't you?" Doubledown demanded.

"I don' know, maybe." Jazz laughed, pulling away from Doubledown with a swift transformation.

"Come on my mechs, let's go have some fun!" Jazz exclaimed and zoomed off, hastily followed by his friends. They scrambled after him, Cut Edge not even completing a full transformation as he tried to keep up. Blaster waited for him to finish before zooming off after his two much faster friends.


	3. 3 Ratchet

Ratchet: 3

"_It can be liberating to get fired because you realize the world doesn't end. There's other ways to make money, better jobs."_

_~Ron Livingston _

"Wait, you're letting me go?" Ratchet stuttered in disbelief.

"Unfortunately." The black mech paused. "I didn't want to Ratchet, you're the best pitcher we've ever had, but I'm afraid your lack of a work ethic is just too much."

Ratchet nearly staggered, shaking his head in denial for a moment. His light optics fell to his arm, gleaming white and a brilliant red hand.

"My work ethic isn't the problem." Ratchet decided with a scowl, glaring back at his now former boss and coach. "It's cause I'm trying to become a medic, isn't it?"

The mech flinched, tearing his yellow gaze away. Then slowly his optics found Ratchet's once more.

"I'm sorry Ratchet, it wasn't my decision. The other players thought it was unfair how much time you got off practice. They were going to start an energon depletion strike if I didn't cut you."

Ratchet felt his hands clench into tight fists, but he refrained from lashing out in anger. Instead he looked deep into the taller mech's optics, sneering just enough to make the other uncomfortable.

"You always were more concerned about yourself than the team, Lash. Always gotta make sure they're in top shape so you can keep the credits coming in."

With that Ratchet took his leave, letting Lash stare after him in guilt and shock. Once Ratchet was outside though, his rigid stance melted, and his hands covered his face.

_How could he cut me loose? I'm the best he's got… _Ratchet shook slightly.

This job was all he had to pay his way through medical training. Without it, he'd have to drop out. Then what would he do; clean the streets with all the other uneducated mechs with no place to go? Ratchet was nearly finished with his training after all, heck he was the top of his class and well liked.

He strode listlessly home, not even bothering to transform. Thoughts about income kept flashing through his head, and didn't cease even as he opened his apartment door.

"Hey Ratchet, you're home early." A voice said from within.

Ratchet looked up at his red and purple friend, whose visor was a disturbingly dark shade of red, but Ratchet had grown used to it. He blew out a long sigh, causing his room mate to spring to his pedes.

"I don't like the sounds of that."

"Sorry Mindwipe, I'm just going to drown in some high-grade for awhile, that's all." Ratchet shuffled towards the energon pantry.

"Something happen?" Mindwipe strode over to his taller companion, cutting him off on his way to the pantry.

"Of course something happened. Now move, I need that high-grade." Ratchet tried to push the smaller bot to the side, but without much avail.

"Ratchet, what exactly happened?" Mindwipe pushed his friend back, looking deep into his optics.

Ratchet found he couldn't stop himself. "I got fired from the team. They didn't like how I was just using them for money I guess."

Mindwipe frowned deeply, and then let Ratchet pass so he could get his high-grade. Ratchet quickly guzzled down a cube, but was a little slower on his second, already off balanced from such fast consumption.

"Maybe you could get a job on sight you know? They offer a lot of different things for students that need a little help." Mindwipe suggested to his intoxicated friend.

Ratchet snorted, now staring at his new cube in disgust. None-the-less he drank it with one deep gulp.

"Ah don' know…been lot…lotta bots wantin' jobs to." Ratchet shuttered his optics as he realized his world was spinning.

_Knew I shouldn't have drank the largest cube. _He hiccupped; forgetting that he had drank two large cubes, and not just one.

"And now you're overcharged. Ratchet what am I going to do with you?" Mindwipe sighed, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and steering him over to the couch rather than up the stairs and into his room. It was safer for both mechs.

"Ya could kill me. That'd make things easier fer me." Ratchet slurred, still shuttering his optics dizzily.

"That it would." Mindwipe laughed almost too easily.

Ratchet allowed Mindwipe to stretch his feet out on the couch for him, and gave into his prodding to lay down. The white mech knew he'd be regretting his sure to come processor ache in the morning, but at the moment all he wanted was some recharge and peace and quiet. Mindwipe knew this better than any mech, and left the room for his own quarters.

Ratchet managed to get a cycle of recharge before coming to, thanks to an obnoxious thump echoing out from the apartment above. He growled at the ache it gave his processor, but didn't do anything about it. He was far too mellow to shout and scold others. In fact his whole ordeal with Lash had been very out of character.

To drown out the noise, Ratchet turned on the monitor, which was already on the news. He sat up slowly, intending to make his way to his quarters but stopping when an emergency siren rang off the screen. He looked at it in surprise, and gasped at realizing all the abandoned buildings not too far off were being leveled to form some sort of shape.

_What in Cybertron's name is that? _Ratchet studied the screen, trying to identify the shape unfolding before his very optics.

He just sat there and watched and waited, forgetting to wake Mindwipe and tell him of the important news. The femme reporting the act of terror suddenly jumped as new information streamed into her, making her lavender optics widen. Ratchet's intakes skipped on him, not letting him suck in more air so he could hear.

"This just in, the name of the attackers has just been distributed through all major news stations. We have been informed that they are calling themselves a new faction; one that claims are starting the renewal of Cybertron's glory. They call themselves the Decepticons." The femme sneered at the name, like it burnt her glossa.

"Decept…icons." Ratchet repeated.

_Who in the right mind would claim destroying buildings is the beginning of renewing Cybertron? _Ratchet shook his head. _Someone could get hurt in all that!_

He watched and waited for the destruction to stop, beginning to see the form it was taking. He had no doubt after a breem that the shape being made was their faction symbol. It was much like the new Autobots', only pointed sharply with no true face, like that of a masked miscreant. The Autobot symbol, though blander, was far friendlier looking than this one.

"I don't believe it." Ratchet gasped as he watched search and rescue bots entering the danger zone in search of bots that had been very much in the wrong place at the wrong time.

_If I had signed up for training just a stellar cycle earlier, I could be out there helping them. _Ratchet shifted uncomfortably.

From the sounds of the reports the femme was getting, thus far there was no sign of any casualties, and both the Enforcers and the Autobots had suspects lined up. She stated that they had formed an alliance of some sort and were sharing resources in order to get to the bottom of this whole affair.

"We have just received intelligence that there are three Autobots stranded out in the destruction, and one of them is buried beneath the rubble. Rescue teams now are trying to reach them, but fires have broken out and are stalling their efforts. Hopefully the Autobots can hold out until help arrives, but there's just no telling how extensive the damage is to the mech buried beneath the rubble. No news yet on who the three are."

Ratchet tensed, trying to recall every Autobot he was acquainted with. The faction had started out tiny, but it was growing with astonishing rate, and highly liked by the majority. They were more like an army sometimes than the Enforcers, giving them a more powerful feel. It dawned on Ratchet he had only one friend in the Autobots, who had officially changed his designation to Preceptor after joining, but he was a scientist, so there was no chance he was out there amidst all the chaos onscreen. Still, it worried Ratchet.

_I should probably give him a call, just to see what's up. _Ratchet decided, and activated his comm.

"_Ratchet, is that you?_" Preceptor's curious voice inquired.

"It's me Percy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Ratchet answered.

"_Well I'm functioning at ninety seven percent, but that will drop more if my stress levels continue to incline with the mess happening here. Our newly promoted Second in Command is the mech pinned out in the rubble, no doubt you've already seen the reports of it on the news._" Preceptor sounded worried, which wasn't a normal emotion for him.

"Your new SIC? Are you serious?" Ratchet's optics returned to the monitor, as if he'd be able to see the mech buried in it all.

"_How I wish I was only joking. Ironhide keeps trying to go out and find him with a search party, but as our head security officer, Prowl won't let him_."

Ratchet tried to put faceplates to names, but failed and decided to pretend he knew who Preceptor was talking about.

"Who are the other two out there?" Ratchet changed the course of the conversation since he couldn't do anything to ease the scientist's mind.

"_The brother of our SIC and our surveillance aerial bot, Powerglide_."

"And only your SIC got buried? How did that happen?" Ratchet shook his head, optics still glued to the glow in front of him.

"_Primus if I knew. But Optronix is a very self sacrificing mech, as well as his brother, though the technical term would be clone due to the processes that occurred during their creation…_"

"Percy." Ratchet snapped.

"_Oh right, my apologies. My only hypothesis is that when the buildings started to collapse, Ultra Magnus was in the way and Optronix saved him. A situation that could have easily been reversed._" Preceptor explained.

"Great, you have not one but two idiots. Congratulations." Ratchet frowned, inwardly wishing he could somehow help.

"_Two idiots they may be, but they are strangely gifted in the art of inspiring others to do there best. That is, when Optronix himself isn't doubting his words. Self esteem issues I'm sensing in him since his promotion, but please don't tell anyone I informed you of that._" Preceptor's cringe could almost be heard through their link.

"Wouldn't dream of it Preceptor. Besides, it'll help me with the art of patient confidentiality. That is…if I make it through this last quarter." Ratchet cringed, suddenly remembering his new and dire financial situation.

"_If you make it? Ratchet, you're still the top of your class, are you not?_"

Ratchet sighed and gave an affirming noise. This made Preceptor pause before asking a different question.

"_You were fired then, weren't you?_"

"Like I was a creation spawned from the Pit." Ratchet groaned, throwing his head back and gazed at the ceiling. The annoying thumping from above had quieted, and let Ratchet breath out a sigh of relief.

"_Do you have any way to pay for your last quarter? I'd hate to see all your hard work go to waste._" Preceptor asked in genuine concern.

"Nah, Mindwipe suggested working on the spot, but everything's full, too many low income bots trying to make more creds. Now I'm just like 'em."

There was another pause, followed by an audible realization moment on Preceptor's end. Ratchet cocked his head.

"_We've been short on interns here at base. I could perhaps convince the CMO here to employ you in our medical department for the time being. I'm ninety percent sure he won't turn you down._"

Ratchet's optics lit up, and a half grin alighted his faceplate.

"Really Percy, you'd do that for me!" He sprang to his pedes, but instantly regretted the movement as his head spun and reminded him he had been overcharged but a cycle ago.

"_To borrow a term you often use, 'that's was friends are for._" Preceptor chuckled.

"I swear Percy it's like Primus created you himself sometimes. You're the best." Ratchet let his grin grow even wider.

This was responded to by denial and some laughter, before having to hang up when Preceptor informed Ratchet he was needed. Now sitting in relative silence again, Ratchet focused on the screen once more. Still no news of how the three Autobots were doing. His frown returned, and he sat there and waited, not knowing why he wanted the three strangers to be all right. Perhaps it was in his programming, or maybe from some experience, but Ratchet wasn't going to get a processor ache over it.

Then the thumping returned from the apartment above, making Ratchet twitch.

_Owe, my processor. I shouldn't have gotten so overcharged. _He cupped his helm in his hands, and tried to drown out the noise by cranking up the volume on the monitor. In only succeeded in giving him a migraine.


	4. 4 Optronix

**And we're back with Optronix. I'm really growing fond of this story, though the point of view is rather challenging. I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am! ;)**

**(Oh, and I'm making a contest for those that want to draw this version of Optronix, before or after he's Prime. You may even predict why Prime has a faceplate. The winner may have a cameo of their oc/a canon character inserted of their choice/or a sketch of their oc if they like my art style)**

Optronix: 4

"_Success in training the boy depends largely on the Scoutmaster's own personal example."_

_~Robert Baden-Powell_

Light just barely started to filter into Optronix's line of vision, and he released a deep rumbling moan.

_How long have I been trapped here? _Was his first thought, closely followed by another moan.

More light began to flood his vision, making him flinch. Optronix found he couldn't budge a micron, and it was very annoying. He ran a self diagnostic, and gasped at the results.

From what his system was telling him, his left arm was smashed, almost nonexistent, connected to the rest of his frame thanks to the largest energon tube somehow remaining un-severed. Both his pedes were miraculously intact, having been saved by the shape of the debris falling on them. Optronix found he could wiggle them slightly, but could get no leverage to push himself out. The diagnostic also showed that his chest plating was caved in and his back shattered. A piece of his own plating had gotten knocked into his internal components, and had speared his locking chip, which meant he couldn't go into stasis lock even if he wanted to.

"Optronix, can you hear me! Optronix!" Ultra Magnus's muffled voice rang out from somewhere, but the said bot couldn't pinpoint it. His diagnostic reminded him one of his audios was out.

"Un, here." Optronix rasped through his pain.

Immediately more light began to find its way through, and the bright white and blue face mask of his brother met his optics. Ultra Magnus disengaged his battle mask, letting his brother see the smile of relief that had been beneath it.

"Optronix, you all right?" He asked more gently, starting to remove more of the rubble around his frame.

"Lost my…left arm." Optronix replied weakly. "Not much leaking though, tube's still attached."

Ultra Magnus couldn't help but cringe, just imagining the pain on himself. He glanced back over his shoulder to who Optronix assumed was Powerglide.

"Try and move some of that right there. His arm's smashed pretty good but we need to get the tube out intact so he doesn't start leaking heavily." His white clone ordered.

"Right. I'll get started." Powerglide answered from wherever he was, and then the soft sound of debris being moved met Optronix's only working audio.

"Think you can hold up a bit longer Orion?" Ultra Magnus paused in his work, making optic contact with Optronix.

"Gonna have to…lock chip isn't functioning." Optronix winced.

Ultra Magnus frowned at this, and quickly redoubled his efforts in uncovering his brother. Optronix could only watch within his limited field of vision, and pray that none of the rubble they were moving would cause more to crash down on all of them.

After was seemed like megacycles Ultra Magnus heaved away the final slab pinning Optronix in place with a little help from Powerglide. The two gently dragged Optronix out and away from the building's ruins and propped him up against a still standing structure. The red and blue mech morphed his battle mask back, no longer feeling it was needed. It had done its job though, and protected his handsome face.

"You look terrible." Ultra Magnus half smiled, the strain still showing through his optics.

"That's something…I want to hear…coming from you." Optronix cringed as Powerglide attempted some minor first aid.

"Sorry Orion." Ultra Magnus completely lost his grin and stared at the ground guiltily.

_He's not just apologizing for the comment. _Optronix's optics widened ever so slightly. _He's apologizing for being in the way._

"Don't blame yourself…Magnus. You'd have…done the same." He comforted.

Ultra Magnus didn't look much happier, but he did nod and blew out a low sigh. His stress levels must have been severe due to the faded glow in his yellow optics. Optronix sighed, wishing he could sound more convincing.

Powerglide suddenly brushed an exposed wire, making Optronix stiffen and let out a pained grunt. The aerial bot swiftly apologized, but it did not save him from a glare by Ultra Magnus. The smaller winged bot seemed to shrink even more.

"Magnus, calm down. In fact…take a seat. We could be here…for some time." Optronix indicated with his only hand.

The large white mech seemed reluctant, but his brother's look told him his place and he seated himself as requested. Optronix blew out a satisfied sigh, managing a soft smile.

"Are you okay?" Optronix decided to ask, noting a few scrapes from where he had been shoved.

Ultra Magnus grinned at this, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still more worried about me, eh?"

"Magnus…I'm always worried about you." Optronix teased and forced out a strained chuckle.

Ultra Magnus chuckled as well, and Powerglide sat back and let a small optic grin break out. Then the small bot's gaze wandered skyward longingly.

"Sorry I can't fly out and get us some help. My wing seems to have gotten struck by a stray piece of metal." He emphasized by only being able to wiggle a single wing. "Must have cut off my transformation circuits running through it."

"Then we'll just…wait." Optronix cringed again, doing his best to cover up his pain from his brother. He didn't want him to feel guiltier than he already was.

"How long do you think that will take?" Powerglide huffed, opticing the smoldering pile of debris that Optronix had just been buried in.

"A joor if we're lucky. Several megacycles if we're not." Ultra Magnus glanced at the pile Powerglide was so transfixed on. "There are probably some pretty bad fires. They'll have to put out any endangering civilians first before they come for us."

Optronix flinched at the thought of waiting any extended period of time for help, and wished there was at least a field medic there to deaden his nervous sensors. His missing joint seared at him and made it difficult to think much less speak.

"You can hold out that long, right?" Ultra Magnus had keyed in on Optronix's distress even through his hardened cover up. There was just no hiding anything from his sibling.

"As long as I have to," Optronix regretted.

"Don't worry…sir, you're the SIC. They have to come for us unless they want to pay our security officer's wrath." Powerglide reassured, and won himself a thoughtful chuckle from Ultra Magnus.

"Yeah Orion, good old Ironhide won't make us wait too long, even if he has to sneak by Prowl ta do it." Ultra Magnus smirked.

The experienced head of security may have been gruff and more then rough around the edges, but somehow Optronix had earned himself a soft spot in the older mech's spark, despite the fact he seemingly hated Ultra Magnus. Perhaps it was due to his calmer demeanor?

Without his locking chip, Optronix decided to try a series of short recharge cycles, so that his processor could at least escape his pain when his body could not. Ultra Magnus approved, but in the end Optronix couldn't manage to get much more than a half a cycle.

Time ticked by slowly, and Optronix half wondered if his chronometer was damaged, or it really was taking an agonizingly long time for rescue to come. Powerglide assured him it hadn't been as long as he thought.

_I'm not sure I believe him. _Optronix doubted, judging by the look on his clone's faceplate.

After what Optronix was sure was several joors, the first sign of rescue made itself known in the form of a shout. Optronix could recognize who called even in his delirious state. A grin just barely found his lip plates.

_Ironhide, can always count on him. _Optronix tried to see where the shout had come from. _Note to self; if I ever need help, Ironhide is my first choice. _

"Over here!" Ultra Magnus stood up, waving his large arms in hopes of being spotted. It helped he towered over ordinary Transformers.

A small team found its way over to them, composed of Ironhide, a rescue bot named Inferno that was in charge of search and rescue operations, and his closest subordinates, whose names escaped the SIC.

"Primus is it good to see you!" Ultra Magnus heaved, glancing down at Optronix to further illustrate his relief to his sibling.

Ironhide quickly assessed Optronix's damage, motioning to one of the mechs they brought along. He must have been a field medic because he quickly subspaced a tool into his hand.

"Ya look like slag, kid." Ironhide commented with a grin, his heavy drawl appealing to Optronix's single audio.

"Getting buried alive does that sometimes." Optronix half smirked back before slumping back in weariness.

"How long 'as he bin like this?" Ironhide shifted his gaze to Ultra Magnus, growing far more serious.

"We freed him almost two joorsa ago. He was buried for a full cycle before we got him out." Ultra Magnus couldn't help but wince.

Ironhide's optics narrowed as he trailed down Ultra Magnus's frame, taking obvious note of the shove marks marring his plating. He was an experienced mech; he knew what it looked like to get shoved out of the way of something far better than any medic.

"Any word on what caused all this?" Ultra Magnus shifted uncomfortably, knowing Ironhide had made the connection.

"Thay call themselves Decepticons. Crude bunch, claiming thay're renewing Cybertron or what not. Bunch of organized slaggers, that's all." Ironhide growled.

"Organized means they are united under a leader. Even if you say this whole attack was crude, it worked well enough, didn't it?" Ultra Magnus stiffened as his optics searched the remaining buildings around him, like the Decepticons were right there, watching.

"Ah don' care. Thay're nothing but another gang with explosives and death threats. Thay won' last long." Ironhide grumbled, and then signaled to Inferno.

On command the mech transformed, a low bed making up his trunk. Then with some careful help from the medic, Ironhide managed to move Optronix's frame into Inferno's new form and stretch him out comfortably.

_I don't think Ironhide's taking these bots seriously enough. They did an awful lot of damage without even showing themselves. _Optronix fretted, but didn't voice his thoughts. He was too exhausted.

They wove there way carefully but quickly through the rubble, avoiding the worst of the devastation whenever possible. Optronix fixated his optics on the dust filled sky above, clouded with black smoke from not so far off fires. Ultra Magnus's large hand would reach in and give him a reassuring pat from time to time, usually whenever they had to come to a complete halt.

Miraculously the group made it out of the devastation without incident, which was probably thanks to Ironhide's experience and shear thick headedness. It didn't hurt that Inferno was the best trained rescue bot they ever had either.

The moment they cleared the last of the rubble, rescue personnel and medics flooded in around them, scanning the three bots over rapidly but carefully, and asking a series of questions. Ultra Magnus was quick to lose his patience.

"Would you all just shut off your vocalizers for an astrosecond? I'll answer whatever questions you've got, after we're back at base. I don't think you realize what a frag of a day we've had!"

Optronix was the only one that smirked after that, and silently thanked his brother. He was then careful loaded up into a transport with his brother and Powerglide, and they were sent off to the nearest medical clinic. The medics on board fixed Optronix's locking chip along the way, and he finally was able to shut down into blissful stasis.

00000

Optronix flexed his new arm carefully. He was perched behind his new desk, back in his office and gleaming from a new coat of paint and a much needed wax job. The medics had refused to release him until he was 'presentable' but had only won him teasing from his brother.

The datapads in front of him seemed even higher, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan. Maybe he could pretend to have a relapse and escape awhile?

Ironhide suddenly walked in before Optronix could make up his mind. Glancing up at the older bot, the SIC just barely inclined his head, wondering what he wanted.

"Good mornin'." Ironhide grinned and took a seat across from the larger blue and red mech.

"Hello Ironhide. Do you need something?" Optronix asked uncertainly, trying to hold back a nervous frown.

"Nah, just came ter see how yer doin'." Ironhide leaned back; very unprofessional, but Optronix didn't really care. It made the atmosphere seem lighter.

"I'll be doing a thousand times better once I get these blasted datapads filled out." Optronix sighed, tossing another completed one into a box that would be placed in his subspace for delivery later.

"Don' I know how that feels. Not nearly as fun as a little action." Ironhide smirked, taking amusement at Optronix's stake.

Optronix signed off on a digital document before setting it aside and staring directly at Ironhide. The ruddy red mech grinned a little wider.

"Why does it feel like you want something?" Optronix furrowed his brow plate.

"No idea. Ah was told ta come 'ere and inform ya that ya will be receiving combat trainin', startin' early tomorrow." Ironhide crossed his arms, looking very content.

"Combat training? But I have already received the required…"

"This is different. You'll be trainin' under yours truly. Prowl was concerned we don' have a military enough set of mind. I think you're incident scared him." Ironhide chuckled gruffly.

"I scared him? I didn't take Prowl as being the type to make emotional decisions."

"He's not. Still the same old Prowl; but this is how he shows he cares I think. Not positive though, haven't known him too long." Ironhide shrugged.

Optronix sat back, shoving a few datapads back in the process to give himself some cycling room. His optics focused on Ironhide thoughtfully.

"So you'll be training me?"

"Sure will. Here, got yur schedule right here." Ironhide pulled a flimsy datapad from his subspace and handed it to the larger mech.

"Ironhide, this says I have training for three cycles after break." Optronix tried to keep his jaw from dropping.

"Sure does. I'm in charge of training all the officers, including Prowl. It'll give us all some bonding time, don' ya think?" Ironhide looked completely smug with himself.

_Dear Primus, all the officers too? _Optronix snorted.

"But under Sentinel's orders, you and Prowl get extra." Ironhide chuckled and stood up. Before he dismissed himself, he paused. "Oh, and that trainin' starts today, so don' be late."

He waved and walked out, leaving Optronix flabbergasted and even more stressed than when Ironhide had walked in. He set his faceplate in his hands and didn't move until his door clicked open again. He lurched to a more attentive position but saw it was only Ultra Magnus. He immediately slumped back over.

"I heard about the training." Ultra Magnus chuckled.

"You're getting it to." Optronix grumbled in retort.

"True, but I'm not stuck with Prowl." His other laughed.

Optronix grabbed the nearest datapad and hurled it at his brother, who dodged with such ease it unnerved him. The blue marks on his faceplate seemed to glow with amusement.

"Too slow my overstressed brother. You really do need that training." Ultra Magnus laughed.

"Magnus…" Optronix placed a deadly edge in his voice, "don't you have work to do?"

Ultra Magnus's faceplate dropped. He knew Optronix was close to pulling rank on him.

"Okay, okay, you need some space, I get it. I'll go…do what I do." Ultra Magnus cringed as Optronix's optics narrowed, and quickly hightailed it out of there.

_The mechs I have to live with… _Optronix sighed heavily and got back to work.

A few hours later, and Optronix was staring at the door outside the training room, wide and suddenly intimidating. No one else was in the hall, signaling he was either very earlier or very late. Shaking his head Optronix opened the door, and was suddenly bombarded by the sounds of yelping, cheering, frustrated shouts and the clang of metal on metal.

_Crowded…great. _Optronix assessed.

He spotted Ironhide in his own private section of the room, growling something at an officer who was sitting in a daze on the ground in the center of a sparring ring. Optronix assumed he had just lost and was getting a lecture.

He trudged over, hating how his presence disrupted the focus of those he passed and even got a few whispers. He tried to ignore what they said, but couldn't help but pick up a few of the rumors about what happened to him in the Decepticon terrorist attack. Most sounded exaggerated.

Ironhide finally noticed the Second in Command's approach, and nodded for the officer to take a seat alongside the ring. By the look in his optic, Optronix guessed he had something in store for him.

"Yer late." Ironhide stated simply as Optronix approached his side.

"That happens when your brother decides rigging the energon dispenser to shoot at whoever walks by would be funny." He growled back, rubbing a dent from a direct hit by a cube.

A couple officers threw each other amused glances, while others shook their heads or grumbled to themselves. Prowl was among those grumbling. Optronix was quick to identify all the officers there; Preceptor, the recently promoted Science Officer; Inferno, the top of search and rescue; Hook, the head Engineering Officer; Shockwave, the Intelligence Officer; Shutter, the Communications Officer; Inverse, head of Special Operations; Cosmos, the Reconnaissance Officer; Hoist, head of Maintenance; his partner Ultrasound, the Chief Medical Officer; and Crosshairs, the Weapons Specialist. Optronix was not surprised that the head of the Civilian Liaison wasn't there. She didn't get out much anyways.

"Well, since yer late ya get ta be the first ta spar against me." Ironhide shoved him to the center of the ring despite his great weight.

"What?" Optronix shuttered his optics in confusion.

The other officers all leaned forward, anxious to see how their new SIC would perform in combat, especially since he missed Ironhide's introduction.

_They must have been sparring with each other before I arrived. _Optronix assumed by their dings and scratches. _Great, they're going to know something I won't and I'll look like an idiot. _He tried not to heave a sigh.

"Don' give me tha' look. Come on, but on yer battle mask." Ironhide encouraged, rolling his neck and shaking loose his limbs.

_I think I'm about to lose any sense of dignity I have. _Optronix reluctantly clicked his mask in place. _Not that there was much to begin with. _

Just as Optronix's battle mode completed itself Ironhide charged, giving him no time to prepare himself. The smaller mech kicked his knee, making him lose his balance. Another kick was delivered with calculated speed to his now lower shoulder, making him sprawl out in a heap on the ground. A few officers laughed at the display.

Optronix climbed back to his normally sure pedes and glanced at his 'peers' uncertainly. He didn't like being a spectacle, especially when he looked bad.

"Pay attention kid, don' get caught off guard." Ironhide preached.

_Great, he's a teach as you go trainer. _Optronix flinched.

Then Ironhide charged again, looking like he was going to use the same move. Optronix shifted his weight, intent on not getting knocked to the ground again. Instead of going for his knee though, Ironhide jumped into the air, soaring straight over the taller mech. His hand planted against Optronix's back and pushed off like he was nothing more than leverage. The SIC let out a grunt of surprise and suddenly found himself on his chest, staring at the padded ring floor.

"Ya got caught off guard." Ironhide chided, and won a few approving hollers from a couple officers.

"Come on ya big bot, show us what you got!" Inferno shouted encouragingly.

"If you've got anything at all," Shutter added with a sharp laugh from Inverse.

Optronix stood up stiffly and tried to ignore the alleged fans. There was now the double amount of cheering, since non-officers had started coming over to see what all the fuss was about. This was one of the reasons why Optronix hated the Training Room so much; he always became the center of attention one way or another, usually resulting in his humiliation or embarrassing praise. There was no happy medium for him here.

"Ready?" Ironhide smirked.

Optronix frowned beneath his mask but braced himself anyways. It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

Ironhide this time transformed and began circling the larger mech, picking up speed as he went around. Optronix watched him uncertainly, trying to predict his next move. Then he realized the circles were getting tighter and tighter, until he was pulling his pedes back in order not to have them run over.

With a sudden burst of speed Ironhide zoomed headlong at Optronix, already having disorientated him thoroughly. The larger mech watched in amazement and Ironhide's frame jumped into the air mid-transformation. His pedes collided against Optronix's jaw line, jerking his head backwards and sending him to the ground yet again.

A few sympathized in the audience, but most snickered or bragged how they could have done better. Optronix simply sat up this time, shaking out the dings. Ironhide was suddenly standing over him, and the mech watched him warily. The older bot extended a hand to help him up.

Optronix raised an optic ridge, an idea suddenly flashing across his processor without his consent. He took his elder's hand, but with a sudden jerk threw him over his shoulder and pinned him down. Gasps rang out from the onlookers as well as a few nervous laughs.

Ironhide stared up at Optronix, dazed for a nanoclick or two.

"Don't get caught off guard." Optronix stated simply and stood up while hoisting up his opponent.

An almost satisfied look crossed Ironhide's faceplate, and he gave the officers as well as the crowd a knowing look.

"And that; is lesson number one." He smirked, giving Optronix a light tap on the shoulder. Optronix felt as though he had suddenly gained some sort of approval from the mech, like he had earned his respect and not just his trust.

"Now who's next?" Ironhide glanced at the seated officers, returning to his serious demeanor.

Many ducked down their heads and diverted their optics. Optronix couldn't help but laugh.

_Maybe this won't be so bad? _He hoped and took a seat as Crosshairs was nominated by his reluctant companions to go next.


	5. 5 Jazz

**I'm making a contest for those that want to draw this version of Optronix, before or after he's Prime. You may even predict why Prime has a faceplate. The winner may have a cameo of their oc/a canon character inserted of their choice/or a sketch of their oc if they like my art style found here (.com/) The due date is October 31. You may send the pic however you want, and incoperate whatever character you desire in the pic. ;)**

**And I hope everyone has liked this story so far. It may kill me to finish it, but it will get done.**

Jazz: 5

_"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear."  
~Ambrose Redmoon_

"Jazz, what are you doing?" Blaster snorted at his friend's distorted position.

"I'm tryin' ta practice my balance." Jazz replied while he did a one arm hand stand, a feat his red friend would have deemed impossible just a few moment's ago.

"Why? If you don't mind me asking," Blaster shook his head.

"Trainin'." Jazz smirked back.

"What for?"

Jazz let another smirk pass by his lip plates. "Cause I need it."

"Really?" Blaster strode over and gave him a good shove, letting his friend clatter to the floor. "I thought you had some work to do?" he indicated to the monitors.

Jazz sat up and stared at the screens unhappily.

"Awe come on Blaster, ya know how boring hacking gets. 'Specially when there's nothing interesting in the coding and yur off doing yur own thing."

Blaster folded his arms over his chest, staring down at Jazz as if he had grown a second head. The white and black mech snorted, seeing that his friend just wasn't getting it.

"I'll get back on it. Just give me a sec."

_Awe mech, I really wanted to try that move first. _Jazz stretched his joints unhappily. He hadn't told Blaster just how in depth he had gone into self training his body, mainly because he didn't want to tell him why. If Blaster knew he wanted to join up with the Enforcers to get away from this small time stuff, he wasn't sure how he'd react.

"I'll crank on the tunes if ya think that'll help." Blaster suggested, switching on his own built in sound system with a smirk.

Jazz sprang to his pedes smoothly with a half flip, impressing his friend. Blaster even gave him a small applause, but it was drowned out by the booming music. Jazz retook his seat in from of the monitors and set back to work.

00000

Jazz walked home at an easy pace, enjoying himself as he bot watched. Sometimes the most amusing things happened right smack dab on the sidewalk when no bot was paying attention.

The white sun was beginning to dip low, and the night lights were filling the streets with a hypnotic glow that only the night folk seemed to like. Jazz thought it was pretty, and had been working on creating his own personal light show, installed straight into his frame. Only Doubledown knew of this, because he was doing the same thing.

Suddenly a mech collided with a femme, both of them falling to the ground with a loud bang. Jazz paused, curious of the spectacle. The mech got up first, looking overly worried and offered to help the femme up. She was flustered but unharmed, and took his offer hesitantly. Jazz cranked up his sensitive audios, and caught bits and pieces of the mech's apologies, and even give his name. The femme gave hers, growing amused by his antics. Somehow by the end of the whole affair the two had decided to meet again in the park.

_He's got more skill than I thought. _Jazz smirked as he watched the mech walk away happily.

Jazz chuckled and shook his head, continuing on his way. Soon the only light came from the city itself, as well as the soft glow of Jazz's red optics. He paused in front of an abandoned alley way, knowing he'd get home faster if he took it. He hesitated, glancing back at the well lit streets that were almost empty. It was eerily quiet now, and there were no more bots to watch.

_Might as well go this way, if I stay out much later I could run into trouble. _Jazz sighed and strutted down the alley way, humming a low tune to himself.

Despite his humming, he cranked up his audios as high as they'd go, trying to pick up any noise that could mean bad news. At the end of the alley was a large chain linked fence, designed to slow down ruffians that sped down alleys to escape the authorities. Jazz cracked his servos and quickly scaled the structure, having done it well over a thousand times.

With a skilled twist he flipped over the top and landed gracefully, if loudly, on his pedes. He winced at the noise, his audios still cranked on high. A buzz echoed through his head while his audios tried to recuperate, drowning out any sounds of danger.

As Jazz resumed his walk home, a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder from behind. Jazz jumped and spun around in alarm, crouching down and prepared for fight of flight. A laugh rang out.

"Easy Jazz, it's just me!" Doubledown held up his arms non-aggressively.

"Downer? Whatcha doin' out here?" Jazz straightened in confusion.

His blue friend shrugged and swung and arm over Jazz's shoulder, leading him towards his home. Jazz stared at him, wondering why his friend would bother avoiding his question.

_Is he in trouble or something? _Jazz wondered, glancing around at the alley.

Doubledown seemed to take notice, because he gave Jazz an extra squeeze.

"Just keep walking." Doubledown whispered lowly. "They don't know I know they're following me."

"How many?" Jazz questioned, straining his audios once more and now detecting scraping noises of pedes trying to keep quiet.

"Five."

Jazz nodded and threw Doubledown a smile, trying to look as thought they were having a casual conversation. Of course his optics betrayed him, like they always did. He just couldn't fake his emotions; they always overwhelmed him.

"Jazz you're a horrible faker, you know that?" Doubledown grunted.

"Whoops?" Jazz's grin looked painful.

The sounds of the pedes increased in volume, telling Jazz that the mechs were getting anxious and preparing to show themselves.

"What did you do this time?" Jazz demanded quietly.

"I'm not really sure anymore. One astrosecond I'm talking with the finest femme I've ever met, the next these goons have me surrounded and are talking a bunch of nonsense."

"And the thought never occurred to you that the femme is apart of their group?" Jazz stated flatly.

"Well…there were some hints…"

Jazz whacked his friend across the helm, making him let out a small yelp.

"If we get slagged tonight, you're paying my medical bill." Jazz snapped.

Here he had just had a new paint job, done by one of the very best no less. It would be a royal pain to touch up, and probably cheaper to just redo entirely if he got really scuffed up.

"Do you think they can be bribed?" Doubledown finally glanced over his shoulder and shuddered.

"Nah, they'll just take yur creds and then frag ya." Jazz pulled away from Doubledown, balling his fists slowly.

Then all the goons jumped down from the building's roof tops, cutting them off from both in front and behind. Jazz counted three seeker builds, and two triple changers. The odds were not in the grounded mechs' favors.

"Jazz?" Doubledown nervously backed into his counterpart.

"Ya know, I really don't feel like fighting." Jazz grumbled.

_All I wanted was ta go home, put on some tunes and get a little recharge. Why can't anyone let me do what I want today? _

"Hey, hey, look at this. It looks like Blue Bot here has got a little friend. Two inferior dirt kissers for the price of one. How lucky." A dark gold seeker stepped forward, taking on the role as leader. All the other's laughed at his comment, and then refocused deadly optics on their prey.

"Ya know, ya shouldn't go around shouting insults before ya even know if ya can back them up." Jazz taunted, making Doubledown wheeze slightly.

"Smart mouthing glitch, that's all you are. Get 'em boys." The gold seeker commanded.

Jazz crouched down, using his smaller frame to his advantage against the fliers. What they had in brute strength they lacked in finesse, and if Jazz played his cards right, that weakness would be their downfall.

They charged in one at a time, and Jazz managed to keep them at bay with a series of swift kicks and jabs. He even landed a blow to a triple changer's neck, right on the pressure point and rendering him immobile. Jazz darted his red optics to the remainder.

"Not bad ground licker. But you won't be doing that again." The golden flier pulled forth a gun, sizzling with life from a long period of charging.

_He was just using his friends to distract me so he could charge up his gun! _Jazz's optics widened in dismay.

"Oh, now you understand, don't ya?" The flier laughed, and was quickly joined in by his group.

He fired quickly, a thick powerful beam arching straight for Jazz's head. He ducked and rolled forward, avoiding the blast and getting closer to the ring leader at the same time. With a quick step and jump, Jazz launched himself up onto the seeker's back, wrapping his arms around his neck tightly.

The golden mech let out a nasty snarl, but it quickly grew into panicked wheezes as the energon was cut off to his central processor. The seeker's group seemed at a loss for what to do, afraid they'd damage their leader more than help if they interfered.

"Let him go." A different bot suddenly ordered.

Both Jazz and the leader froze in their struggling, looking up to see the still standing triple changer clutching Doubledown around the neck with a seeker pointing his gun at his head at the same time. Jazz's spark seemed to freeze within his core.

"J-Jazz," Doubledown crackled weakly.

_Awe slag, this ain't cool now. _Jazz glanced down at the golden seeker and then back to Doubledown.

"All 'ight, all 'ight, let's not get our tubin' in a bunch," Jazz tried to soothe while at the same time stalling.

"We said, let him go," the grip around Doubledown's neck tightened, making the blue mech cry out in pain. With a steady motion Doubledown's pedes were lifted off the ground.

_I could always use that new move I've been trying to get down...but I've never nailed it. _Jazz ground his dental plates nervously.

"You don't want us to slag your buddy here, pede polisher, cause he won't recover," The triple changer threatened.

Jazz squeezed his optics shut tight, focusing on what he needed to do. If he could nail the move, he could save Doubledown. But if he messed up, even slightly, they'd both be a pile of spare parts come morning.

_Sorry Double, hope ya trust me. _Jazz shoved off from the golden seeker and flipped through the air. As he came back down to the ground he saw he was right on target, and began to transform.

His full vehicular form slammed into the triple changer's head and shoulder, just barely missing Doubledown and sent them all spiraling down the metallic ground. The seeker that had been aiming at Doubledown lost his gun during the confusion, which Jazz snatched up and he transformed back into his bipedal form. With a kick he completely knocked out the triple changer and then jumped between Doubledown and the baffled seeker.

"B-Boss...this ain't lookin' like it's such a good idea no more," the seeker glanced over at the golden leader and his right hand seeker, who also looked like he was in awe.

"It's fine, we still have this situation under control," The golden snapped back.

Jazz used this opportunity to spring at the distracted seeker and with a jab to a key area on the base of his helm, he fell over; stunned. Jazz raised his newly acquired gun at the golden seeker, just daring him to make another move.

"On second thought..." The gold seeker exchanged a nod with his only remaining goon and then flew off into the night with an impossibly fast transformation.

Jazz let out a steadying breath, cooling off his internal components. He then returned his attention over to Doubledown.

"Ya okay there Downer?" Jazz's red optics swam with worry.

Doubledown in response leaned over on his knees, rubbing his neck tenderly and coughing a time or two. With a wince he looked back up and Jazz and nodded.

Jazz smirked gently at his friend and then walked over to his side, swinging Doubledown's arm over his shoulder.

"Cum on, let's get ya home," Jazz cooed soothingly, and then helped Doubledown walk home.


	6. 6 Sideswipe

**Now don't forget about the contest. Due date is Oct. 31. You may send it to me through a link or upload it if you have a deviantart account and send it to me that way. I will give the winner(s) a choice between either a cameo of their OC, an insertion of a canon character they desire (if not already present) or a well drawn picture of their OC or canon character. Please don't be shy!**

**And I would like to greatly thank my slim reviewers. This story is very popular compared to my others, but strangely I'm getting few reviews. I don't understand, but oh well, I'll just keep on trucking along. (oh, look, a pun!) **

Sideswipe: 6

_"I wouldn't call them 'brutal', but it's on the verge of reckless. I don't think it's purposeful and cynical. It's exuberant. It's wanting to win."_

_~April Heinrichs _

They sped through the streets, overtaking anybot and shooting on by. Laughter echoed out from them both, being loud and harsh, but almost childish in nature. Their treads barely touched the pavement, allowing the lack of friction to literally let the pair fly.

"Think you can beat me this time Sunstreaker?" Sideswipe laughed confidently.

"This time? I wiped your sorry tail pipe clean last time," the yellow twin challenged.

"That is a lie," the red twin spat back.

"Sides..." Sunstreaker's tone grew dangerous.

A laugh and a hard acceleration were Sunstreaker's only answer and Sideswipe broke out ahead. The red speedster continued to laugh louder as he dodged traffic and turned onto a closed road, ignoring what was written on the sign that was supposed to be blocking it off. Sideswipe could just barely make out Sunstreaker's warning call from behind, but paid it little mind.

_I'm not losing this round, no way. Sunny's totally jealous right now! _Sideswipe thought contently to himself.

He and his twin were still considered younglings by law, yet to receive what should be their final upgrade and be called true mechs. There upgrades were coming in soon, an orn at the very most. They had agreed to pull as many stunts as possible before they could be tried as legal adults by law, and this day's stunt was racing through the crowded super highway of Altihex.

The empty road Sideswipe now freely sped on rose up into a ramp, which only made his urge to keep up his current speed increase. Another shout rang out from Sunstreaker, but once again Sideswipe paid him no mind. His brother would not take away his victory.

The ramp began to level back out, but as it did Sideswipe saw the reason for Sunstreaker's yelling. It was a dead end, and there was no more road left to drive on. With a screech Sideswipe slammed on the brakes, completely spinning around from the lack of friction he had on the road.

"Sunny!" Sideswipe yelped as his alt fell over the drop off.

He transformed out of instinct as he fell, watching the world get closer to smashing his face plate. He let out a squawk and covered his head, trying to protect the fragile attachment.

A loud boom resounded through the air as Sideswipe impacted the ground, sending up debris that had fallen from the degrading ramp above. Sideswipe barely had time to register something jar loose and twist, but blackness swept over his vision before he could comprehend anything further.

00000

Sideswipe's world came back to him in a spinning motion and the urge to purge his tanks almost proved to be too much. With a groan he attempted to sit up, but realized he couldn't because of something heavy. Attempting to focus his optics Sideswipe just barely made out a shadowy figure hovering over him.

"Sideswipe? Sideswipe?" the voice was familiar but distant, and Sideswipe didn't want to make the effort to focus on it.

"Sideswipe!" it grew in volume, but Sideswipe realized that wasn't true, his audios were simply beginning to function properly again.

He tried to sit up again, but whatever heavy object was on top of him wouldn't allow it. He stretched back out with a low moan.

"Sides, can you hear me?" now the voice sounded worried and not just disembodied. "Come on, wake up!"

The urgency in the tone forced Sideswipe to activate his optics further, squinting up at the shadowy shape above him once more. He shuttered his optics several times, hoping to bring them into focus. Finally his vision cleared, and the unmistakable faceplate of his twin brother registered in his processor.

"Bro?" Sideswipe cringed when pain suddenly came with the new clarity on the world around him.

"You idiot, what were you thinking!" Sunstreaker snarled, but the old panic was still visible in his violet optics.

"Dunno...head...hurts," Sideswipe cringed again, but now realized the heavy object holding him down was actually both of Sunstreaker's hands resting on his shoulders, barely even touching him.

_Fraggit, I'm real messed up this time. _Sideswipe realized unhappily.

Sunstreaker sat back, staring up at the sky in exasperation. His twin was always looking out for him it seemed, protecting him and keeping him on his feet. If Sunstreaker wasn't half as good at keeping an optic on Sideswipe, he'd be slagged much more frequently.

"What..." Sideswipe cut short as hot pain flashed over his vision temporarily.

"You're gonna need a doctor with this one," Sunstreaker declared solemnly.

"No..doc bot. Can't...afford 'em."

Sideswipe only made out a low sigh as his twin leaned back and out of sight. The red mech decided to use this opportunity to run a self diagnostic. He couldn't help but grimace at the results. Both of his arms were mangled from taking the brunt of the fall, while one of his legs was twisted backwards past the knee joint. His other leg simply had no feeling at all, but a light thunk from his pain filled leg confirmed it was still attached to his body. Pieces of debris speared straight through him, puncturing tubing and leaking out energon steadily. A warning flashed through his systems as they told him one of his intakes had been dislodged and crumpled, meaning his cooling systems were down with it.

"Come on Sides, let's get you to a hospital," Sunstreaker gently lifted his brother up in his arms.

"No...hos'tal...too...exp'ncive." Sideswipe protested futilely.

"You drove off a ramp on a super highway Sideswipe. You're going to a hospital." Sunstreaker remained firm, though he knew he had all the power in their situation anyways.

"No...hos'tal."

This time Sunstreaker said nothing, simply walking on, picking his way through the safest path of debris over to the highway.

"No...hos'tal."

Sunstreaker's optics briefly met his brother's, but his blank look read his mind was made up, and no amount of protesting or whining from Sideswipe was going to change that fact. Sideswipe heaved out a low sigh, barely managing the noise with only one working intake. A few coughs escaped with his breath, shaking him violently against his brother's frame.

Sunstreaker glanced down at his sibling again, only now his optics were filled with concern again. To Sunstreaker, Sideswipe was more like the younger brother that had to be looked out for at all times. Sideswipe knew this, and despite the fact that they were twins, created in the exact same moment, he accepted Sunstreaker's view of him. It meant he could be the reckless one and take all the blame for his brother. Things got to be his fault, something Sunstreaker often couldn't stand. Sunstreaker liked performing in peak condition, so if he did something wrong it devastated him. Sideswipe could then butt his head in and claim any problem to be his wrongdoing instead. Their system worked, and made Sideswipe content.

Now the two lived where ever they pleased, having run out on their creators due to boredom and a thirst to see the world. They took all sorts of odd jobs from older, and on rare occasions younger, mechs and femmes, giving them more experience than the average youngling.

By law they were old enough to be away from their creators anyways, and since their creators hadn't yet given up rights to them, they were entitled to the upgrade coming up, and it would be absolutely free to both twins' joy.

"How are you holding up?" Sunstreaker suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"Been...better," Sideswipe managed the faintest of smirks on his lip plates.

Sunstreaker frowned in return. "Well I assumed as much."

The golden yellow youngling hefted Sideswipe back up onto the highway, and then managed to flag down a concerned mech of a large build. With his help the emergency line was reached and an emergency transport dispatched.

Sunstreaker cycled out a long sigh of relief, but Sideswipe knew the heavy thought of medical bills was now plaguing his mind. They didn't have nearly enough credits to cover a single surgery, let alone a total frame reconstruction. Sideswipe knew that they would ultimately have to contact their creators, inform them of where they were, and beg for forgiveness after he was repaired.

"You should probably set him down," The bulky stranger suggested.

In response Sunstreaker tensed, and Sideswipe knew his protective nature was taking hold of him. To stop a disaster in its tracks, Sideswipe spoke up.

"Yeah...Sunny. You'll throw...you're back out," the twin barely managed to smirk so his brother would see he was trying to be funny.

"...fine," he snapped shortly and did as the large mech suggested.

Sideswipe turned his gaze up at the mech curiously, taking in his powerful build and red and orange paint job. His optics were surprisingly gentle, while the rest of his frame looked like he could plunge into the center of a warzone and come out unscathed.

"Who're...you?" Sideswipe tried to raise his voice.

"My designation is Sentinel, Sentinel Prime," the large mech introduced.

"A Prime?" Sunstreaker gaped at the large bot.

This only made Sentinel Prime chuckle, as if Sunstreaker's reaction had been a very funny joke. Sideswipe raised a brow, trying to remember what a Prime even was. He vaguely knew it had something to do with the High Council, but after that his memory failed him.

"Wait, if you're a Prime, then why do you have an insignia? Prime's aren't supposed to have a bias," Sunstreaker pointed to a red face like symbol on the Prime's chest.

"I am an Autobot as well young one. As a Prime I am obligated to watch over and guide my people, and as an Autobot I can fight and protect them," Sentinel Prime smiled kindly down at the two.

"Well, your job sucks," Sideswipe coughed up with a wavering smile.

"Oh, and why is that?" Sentinel's optics glowed with curiosity.

"You never...don't ever...get any you time," Sideswipe cringed as another flash of pain raked his circuits.

Sentinel Prime smiled and chuckled again, obviously toying with Sideswipe's words in his mind.

"I suppose that is true," he nodded finally.

Then the sound of sirens met both twins' audios and Sentinel Prime released a sigh of relief. He stood back up to his full height, allowing his stature to alert the coming med-bots of where Sideswipe was.

Sideswipe glanced at his brother. The golden youth's faceplate was one of contemplative coldness. He was still trying to think of a way out of their situation without contacting their creators. Grimacing Sideswipe reached a broken arm up to his brother, immediately capturing his attention.

"Don't worry...bro...we'll get out of this," a gentle smile barely flickered across the red youngling's pained faceplate.

"But we don't have enough credits Sides," Sunstreaker took Sideswipe hand and gently lowered it back down.

_Credits be slagged, I'll just sneak out after reconstruction and ditch the place. _Sideswipe thought firmly.

"You are far from your care takers, aren't you?" Sentinel Prime suddenly inquired; Sideswipe hadn't realized the older mech had been listening to their conversation.

"We're of legal age," Sunstreaker spat quickly.

Sentinel Prime smiled down at them and shook his head, like an old memory had resurfaced due to their behavior.

"I'm not concerned about that. What I am concerned about is your financial situation," the Prime activated his subspace and withdrew some credits. "Here, this should cover the cost."

Sideswipe watched as Sentinel Prime handed Sunstreaker very valuable high class credits. The entire time the immense mech had a smirk on his faceplate.

Then the medical bots arrived and quickly swarmed around Sideswipe. Through all the commotion though all Sideswipe could do was stare at Sentinel Prime in awe. Never in his life had he seen such generosity, and privately wondered if that was what it meant to be a Prime. The great Autobot threw Sideswipe a salute and then a wave before transforming and driving off, his mission completed.

Medics continued to plague Sideswipe with questions as they stabilized him on the spot, but all the red youngling could do was stare after the disappearing form of Sentinel Prime.


	7. 7 Ratchet

**Don't forget, the drawing Optronix without his mask ends on October 31! You can send him to me via fanfiction, or through my deviantart page, with the link located in my profile. Remember the winner will either recieve a cameo of their oc in this fic, the (permanent) inclusion of a canon character of their choice (that has not already been mentioned) or a picture of their oc/canon character drawn by me (If you like my artistic style). I could always end up getting carried away and draw an image like the Sunstreaker you will see on my deviantart page. Please don't be shy, I like strangers!**

**And now, onto the next installment, I hope you all enjoy!**

Ratchet:7

_Clyde's Law:_

"_If you have something to do, and you put it off long enough, chances are someone else will do it for you."_

"You will be prepping the labs, organizing the files, energizing patients, and cleaning up after hours," Ultrasound instructed to Ratchet, "seeing as you're a medical student you will be permitted to observe surgeries and other such procedures, but you are not allowed to interfere."

Ratchet nodded, half excited about the new job, half wondering what the pay would be. If he didn't make enough here, his internship would be pointless and he might as well have quit and found some other team that would take him as a pitcher. He had a reputation already after all, and was certain a different coach would see his financial situation in a different light.

_I'm sure that our...their...rival team would take me. That coach had been making under the radar offers to me practically every time I left my home. _

"Any questions?" Ultrasound asked as he finished showing Ratchet around the Autobot med-bay.

"Yes, um, what is the pay?" Ratchet glanced nervously at the smaller medical bot.

Ultrasound chuckled, a knowing look gleaming in his optics.

"Preceptor informed me that you had financial problems," the CMO paused "do not worry; it will be enough to get you through."

_Through on what? Low-grade and a shack? If this first paycheck doesn't crunch the right numbers, I'll have no choice but to quit. _He held in a sigh of exasperation.

"Now, why don't we get straight down to business," Ultrasound suddenly subspaced a mop and shoved it in Ratchet's hands.

The new intern looked at it incredulously. Never in his life had he had to do cleanup work, not even after games that he pitched in. It was a job for the lackeys and ball bots, not the team players. Ratchet had never had to work his way up; he had always been on top, even when he was a sparkling.

Before Ratchet could say anything a bucket met his other hand and Ultrasound was gone. The bot stared at the closed door and then down at his equipment. He glanced around the med-bay and back at his equipment again. He had a lot of work to do.

00000

Ratchet sat down on the nearest berth, rubbing his optics with now worn hands. He had scrubbed the floor until it gleamed, straightened out the berths and stacked up any stray files he had found. The counters were shining from sanitation and the cabinets were once again organized and correctly labeled. Ratchet couldn't help but wonder how the med-bay had become so disorderly.

_Right, now I just have to sort through those stacks. _His blue gaze settled on the files he had pushed to the side. For a moment he could have swore they were laughing at him.

Standing up on joints that now creaked; he shuffled over to the datapads and skimmed over them. Most of them were just check up information and prescription information. Less common he found an actual patient diagnostic, but it was nothing of major importance. He had a feeling the patients wouldn't like to hear that their personal information was just laying for anyone to pick up.

_This is ridiculous, I've never seen such a disorganized med-bay in my life! _Ratchet frowned while picking up what looked to be a request for new equipment. The date on it said it was written seven megacycles ago. If that were true, then the equipment was never received.

"What the frag is wrong with this place?" Ratchet grumbled, placing the request in a different stack so he could show it to Ultrasound.

He paused, realizing he didn't know if he was supposed to report to Ultrasound when he was done or some other worker. He frowned, deciding he'd try the CMO first since he wasn't given any instruction.

He headed out into the halls, subspacing the equipment request to keep it safe. The halls were fairly empty, save the occasional bot. Ratchet was quick to key in on the fact that there were few femmes. It gave the place a very military feel, where goofing around would surely not be tolerated. Ratchet supposed fembots had been discouraged from joining the Autobots, or at least to keep away from the mechs at base.

As he rounded a corner his head smacked straight into something solid and he crashed to the floor.

"Oh, sorry there, I didn't see you," a friendly voice apologized swiftly.

Ratchet winced and peered up to see a large red mech, with thick armor covered in scratches. It was obvious he did a lot of field work.

"It's all right," Ratchet began to stand, when the mech offered down his hand. He took it and was swiftly hoisted to his feet.

"Hey, you must be that new intern Ultrasound was talking about," the mech smirked, looking amused by something.

Ratchet dusted off his shoulders, though he doubted there was anything on them.

"I am."

"Heh, you've got a lot of work set out for you then," he chuckled deeply.

Ratchet raised a brow plate, both contemplating what the mech said as well as taking in the bot.

"How so?"

The mech hesitated, but it looked more like he was dragging it out at Ratchet's expense than anything else.

_This does not bode well. _Ratchet grumbled internally. Here he had thought he'd get a good interesting job to make up for his old one, but thus far it had only spiraled together into a nightmare of disorder and vague instruction.

"Ultrasound never keeps things organized. If it weren't for the other medics, nothing would ever get done or cleaned up," booming laughter escaped from the large mech, disturbing Ratchet only slightly.

_Well that's just great. Leave it to Preceptor to pair me up with some lazy boss._

"I suppose I should thank you for the warning then," Ratchet kept his irritation well under control and hidden from the strange Autobot.

"No problem; by the way, the name's Inferno," he extended his larger hand again, only this time to shake.

Ratchet returned it, a curious glint gleaming from his optics.

"Ratchet."

"Well I hope to see you around Ratchet. I'm the top of search and rescue around here, so if you ever need information or get some free time, feel free to drop by my office. I could always use a good distraction," Inferno grinned widely and then walked off, his steps relaxed and slow. Ratchet wondered how he had slammed into the mech in the first place.

_Well, that was…different. _Ratchet tsked in thought before returning to his search for Ultrasound.

He had been given a basic map of the Autobot's base, with a more detailed separate map of the medical wing. Ratchet was quick to discover that Inferno's office was brightly labeled and located just outside of the medical wing, possibly due to his area of expertise.

_I bet he was one of the bots that rescued the mechs during the terrorist attack. _Ratchet realized, and slowly grew to admire the bot as he walked along. He doubted that he would even have what it took to dive into flames to save a comrade, which is why he had decided to specialize as a civilian medic, and not some private faction's or of the like.

_Maybe I should take him up one that offer to talk sometime. He's probably had a fair amount of experience in the field, even if he's not a medic. _

Ratchet continued his search for Ultrasound in relative silence; none of the other Autobot's he passed gave him as much as a glance. But it didn't seem it was because they weren't friendly. Most of them simply had a quick step to their stride like they needed to be somewhere and fast. Ratchet had to remind himself he was working in a real medical wing, and most of the mechs he was passing could have very well been medics and specialists.

He scoured the entire area for Ultrasound, only to come up empty. He gritted his dental plates, growing annoyed that he couldn't find his superior. After checking the area twice, a medic nabbed him and informed him that Ultrasound had left the premise cycles ago and wouldn't be back until the following day.

_This fragging CMO has the worst work ethic I've ever seen! What if there was some crisis and he wasn't here? Isn't he supposed to take on the most serious emergencies? _Ratchet trudged down the halls headed for the exit, the medic he had encountered now possessing the supply shipment list.

As he reached the door he paused, staring through the glass and out at the grounds of the Autobot base. It was well constructed, with a friendly area for those with free time to mingle and talk, and bright unrefined energon fountains symmetrically falling down the main walkway. It all looked so organized and well thought out; a stark contrast to Ultrasound's work ethics.

_Fragging CMO. If I'm not getting a decent amount of credits, I'm out of here. _Ratchet unsealed the door and strode out, ignoring the bots that happened to glance his way and read his unhappy expression. He wasn't an Autobot, and therefore wasn't entitled to get to know any of the surrounding mechs.

"Yo, hey wait up!" a voice suddenly shouted to him.

Ratchet stopped, confused and suddenly out of his comfort zone. He turned only to look up at a group of powerfully built mechs. Judging by their frames, Ratchet determined they were designed for the more military purposes of the Autobots.

"Can I help you?" Ratchet never realized how small his voice could sound until just then.

The one that called him out stepped away from his companions, a bright grin covering his faceplate.

"We didn't mean ta alarm ya or nothin' but, I just couldn't help but notice that you look just like the top pitcher Ratchet. Say it ain't so!"

Ratchet just barely smirked, amused that he had fans as large and powerful as these.

"I am Ratchet, though I regret to say I am no longer pitching," Ratchet shrugged innocently enough.

"What a waste, you've got the most talent as a pitcher that I've seen in a long time!" a different mech spoke up, his voice surprisingly young sounding.

"Well, things change," Ratchet sighed.

"That's too bad. We heard your coach fired ya. Is that true?" the first mech spoke up again.

"More or less. The team were the actually bots that wanted me gone. They were going to go on an energon strike if something wasn't done," he found his optics dropped to the ground without his consent.

"Cause they were jealous glitch heads, right?" hero worship gleamed in the third mech's optics, though he lacked the faceplate to finish off the expression.

"That sounds about right," Ratchet chuckled, glad to see he still had fans even if he was 'retired'.

"Do you think you'll ever go back to pitching?" yet another mech asked.

Ratchet quickly realized he was gathering a crowd, and he wasn't certain if he wanted this attention or not. It was one thing to be cheered on while making the winning pitch; it was another to be surrounded by fans away from the team and any potential aid.

"I suppose I could if my medical career doesn't kick off, but I doubt that'll happen," Ratchet lied, truthfully concerned he'd be pitching games for the rest of his life, or until a better rookie took his place at the rate his luck was going.

"Awe don't say that mech, you could totally become Cyberton's best pitcher ever!" an even younger voice rose up, and Ratchet was beginning to wonder just how old a bot had to be to join the Autobots.

"All righ' break it up, break it up, give the bot sum cyclin' room!" a gruff shout rang out, and almost immediately the Autobot fans dissipated.

Ratchet's optics settled on a dull red mech, who's armor was chipped in places, and optics looked as though they'd seen too much. The way he carried himself though told Ratchet he was not a mech to be messed with.

"Thank you," Ratchet let his shoulder's slump forward, realizing he hadn't had room before.

"Sure thang kid. Them Autobots are all my trainees, and they've yet ta learn self restraint," the mech's accent was gruff and twanged, though Ratchet couldn't identify where it was from. He had never been into world history.

"Well, I'm glad you called them off when you did…erm…"

"Ironhide, and you'd be Ratchet, that pitcher fer da Cybertronian Turbo-Foxes," Ironhide gave him a rough pat on the shoulder as he introduced himself.

"So you watch your sports as well?" Ratchet grinned.

"When I git the chance," Ironhide admitted, seemingly amused by something.

"Ya look a bit older in person."

Ratchet tilted his head, unsure of how to respond to such a statement. He had always known he looked a bit older than he actually was, but it never had occurred to him that he looked younger on the monitor. Maybe he was more photogenic that he originally thought?

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment?" Ratchet's voice pitched slightly, making Ironhide chuckle.

"It'll git you more respect, lad, that's fer sure," Ironhide grinned, "but it won't git you points when lookin' fer a femme, that's even more certain."

And with nothing more than a wink the rusty red mech strode away, heading off to probably yell at the slacking trainees. Ratchet watched him go before departing the grounds, thoughtful about what Ironhide had said to him.

_Do I really look older in person? _He wondered quietly. He'd have to ask Mindwipe once he got home.


	8. 8 Optronix

**Yay, another chapter! And we're back to good old Optronix. Don't worry about the story heating up either, because after I get this 'beginning' out of the way, we should have some ACTION! I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am :)**

Optronix: 8

"_My theory is that if you look confident you can pull off anything - even if you have no clue what you're doing."  
~ Jessica Alba_

"Decepticons, Decepticons, Decepticons, is that the only gang that's had any activity recently?" Red Alert growled as he scrolled through the security footage.

"You sound disappointed," Optronix grinned, seated beside the security bot, who had only recently joined the Autobots.

Red Alert was a skittish mech, with a good processor on his shoulders and an innate sense for when something was up. Despite this he was very unpopular amongst his peers, and even his superiors were easily off set by him. Optronix knew he was one of the few that could tolerate his presence.

"I'm not disappointed, I'm unnerved. Why would the Decepticon activity suddenly cause all other gang activity to cease? It doesn't make any sense!" Red Alert waved his arms to emphasize his point.

"You may be over thinking things," Optronix chuckled before refocusing on the datapad in his hand that he was supposed to be reading. It involved some agreement with Kaon and their illegal but heavily supported gladiatorial rings.

"Maybe, or more likely all the gangs have been overrun by the Decepticons and they now have a monopoly over the underworld," Red Alert declared far too loudly.

Optronix rubbed at his audios for a moment, trying to clear the buzz from his head.

"I think you're being paranoid," Optronix winced at the sound made by his own voice.

"Paranoid bots twitch; I do not twitch," the red and white security bot defended.

"Yet," Optronix corrected.

Red Alert just threw the SIC a glare before returning his harsh blue optics to the security monitors.

_I can see why others can't stand him. _Optronix grinned to himself as he attempted to read the report again.

"What was that for?" Red Alert keyed in on Optronix's look immediately.

"Oh, nothing," he brushed off.

Red Alert narrowed his optics in disbelief, but the fact that Optronix was his superior kept him from snapping any further. Optronix had to remind himself that he was in charge of things.

_To think I came out here to avoid my brother's distractions, and Red Alert is proving more distracting than even him. _He sighed internally.

The report about Kaon was a grim one, seeing as the low-lives were growing in power thanks to funds from the gladiator games, and they seemed to have successfully pinned the government there under their thumbs. It was only a matter of time before open rebellion started, and according to Prowl, the only way to stop it would be to send Autobots there to deal with the crisis and come to an agreement in person. In fact the report was more like a summons, but it wasn't signed by any single transformer from Kaon, leaving the bot who contacted them in a shroud of mystery.

"Hey Optronix…sir, Sentinel Prime has just arrived," Red Alert indicated to one of the feeds.

Optronix raised his optics to watch as the red and orange leader entered the base and be greeted by a surplus of Autobots. He could just barely see Ironhide yelling at young mechs to get back and let the Prime through.

"Then I suppose I should greet him," he sighed aloud, hating all the responsibility his job entailed.

"Suppose? You kind of have too!" Red Alert exclaimed, once again flailing his arms through the air. With his kind of energy, Optronix wondered why Red Alert chose the dull glamour free job of a security bot, when he obviously had the ability to do so much more.

"I'll be reporting back to you with whatever information Sentinel Prime has gathered about the Decepticon's activity, seeing as you're so concerned about it."

"What? Really!" excitement just barely exposed itself in Red Alert's voice.

"I trust you with it," Optronix nodded and then left, just barely hearing a triumphant yip from the red and white bot as he left. He was glad Red Alert enjoyed his job, but jealous that he himself couldn't feel the same enthusiasm with his own.

He arrived at the Command room, and was quick to spy the powerful Sentinel Prime already conversing with Prowl, his faceplate drawn tight and optics heavy. It was rare to see the leader in such a mood, so Optronix knew something was up.

"Sentinel Prime," Optronix greeted.

"Optronix," the Prime nodded towards him.

"How went the trip?" Optronix glanced at Prowl, and saw he wasn't happy, not that the mech ever was happy.

"Unfortunately Kaon is growing restless. The Decepticons have amassed there, and the population is worried they are tied with the gladiatorial rings. They want to legalize the fights so the Decepticons can't seize control over it. I have a suspicion though that these so called Decepticons have already infiltrated the system, and I was forced to leave two spies behind to further investigate. As I have already told Prowl, I need him to meet with the spies in person within an orn to keep information as top secret as possible at this point. I do not want to cause a panic by letting some Autobot fighter blab to his friends."

Optronix watched as Sentinel Prime's faceplate grew steadily grimmer, and by the end of his explanation he looked vorns older than he actually was.

"You will be sending Prowl on his own?" Optronix cast a wary glance at the TIC, all too familiar with the fact that he was an office bot, not a field one.

"I am fully capable of handling myself properly in this situation. I am integrated with a full battle computer after all," Prowl assured.

Still, Optronix didn't want to see Prowl going off on his own. If something were to happen to the white and black mech, he would have no way of contacting them for help. Sentinel Prime however, obviously didn't share the same sentiment.

"Prowl can take care of himself Optronix," Sentinel Prime smiled, but it was strained.

"Now there is a matter I wish to discuss with you, in private," his gaze switched over to Prowl as he finished, and the Sub-commander saluted before walking out, sealing the door behind him to keep out any eavesdroppers.

"What is it sir?" Optronix inquired now that they were alone.

"On my way back from Kaon, I checked in with the High Council to inform them of what I have just told you," Sentinel Prime began, "They have been heavily deliberating what is to be done with this new Decepticon threat."

Optronix remained silent, not daring to break optic contact with his leader.

"They are aware that the violence is escalating all over Cybertron, and they know that I cannot be everywhere at once. They wish to nominate a replacement for me in case the worst would happen; a list of replacements actually."

"Replacements? Already? But sir, you still have thousands of vorns before you could even be called…well…pardon my opinion, but experienced," Optronix shook his head in disbelief, "Not to mention that the nominees could be discovered and targeted."

"Which is why they want more than one possible replacement; and you Optronix, are at the top of their list," Sentinel Prime's expression remained carefully neutral.

Optronix sucked in a short breath, his intakes catching slightly at the stunning news.

_They want me…to be a Prime? _His processor churned at the very thought. _But I'm hardly qualified to even be the Autobot Second in Command. How am I to be Prime when I can hardly handle this faction?_

"But sir, I have no qualifications, no experience…" Optronix protested.

"They see something in you Optronix, something they like," the great red and orange bot set a hand on Optronix's shoulder. "And I personally agree they've made a good choice. You're a thinker, but you're a fighter to. You listen to your subordinates and they respect you. As long as you keep your humility, I foresee you becoming a greater Prime than even Nova Prime himself."

Optronix felt his optics widen on their own accord. For Sentinel Prime to compare him to the great Golden Age Prime was humbling as well as stirring.

"I am beginning to think you nominated me," he stared at his leader suspiciously.

Sentinel Prime merely chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, confirming Optronix's suspicions.

"Is that all sir?" Optronix could see he wouldn't be getting any farther on the issue.

"For the time being. I have some business to attend to here, so you are free to go," Sentinel Prime pulled up a screen flashing with information, most of it revolving around Kaon.

"Sir," Optronix nodded and left the Prime to his thoughts.

He headed back for the Monitor Room, where Red Alert was no doubt waiting. Just as he expected the red and white bot was still watching the multiple screens, his optics skittering over them so fast Optronix wondered how the bot didn't get a cerebral-ache.

"Has anything happened during my absence?" Optronix questioned as he seated himself beside Red Alert, making the skittish Autobot jump.

"Oh, nothing…sir, just a few shipments have come in, and it looks like a camera in the medical wing needs a tune up," Red Alert explained.

"Good," Optronix leaned back, rubbing the glowing marks on his faceplate for a moment, "Sentinel informed me that the Decepticons are probably controlling the Gladiator fights in Kaon."

Red Alert merely stared at Optronix, his optics shuttering as if in disbelief.

"Then they have a powerful leader," his breath caught and came out shallowly.

"Powerful?" Optronix glanced back at Red Alert, having pulled back out the datapad he was supposed to have read by now.

"The Gladiator fights are no place for gang scum. They're for brutes and heavyweights with temperament problems, not streetwise idiots. This Decepticon leader, he must be strong enough to show the Gladiators whose boss."

Optronix frowned, turning his gaze up to the glowing monitors in thought. It didn't seem likely that he'd get a break from his mounting stress anytime soon.

"Thank you for your input Red, I'll be sure to carry your concerns over to Sentinel Prime. He'll want to hear your theory on this," Optronix stood.

"Right now?"

"No, Sentinel is busy at the moment, but when I meet with him tomorrow, I'll let him know," Optronix enlightened his subordinate.

"Ah, okay then," he nodded, "Where are you going?"

"To find my pain in the aft brother. He's departing for a bodyguard job in Praxis in a half a joor, and if I don't say goodbye I'll never hear the end of it."

Red Alert merely nodded before returning his attention to the monitors, something about his clenched expression making Optronix's intakes constrict. He looked like he was upset by something, but at the same time unnerved.

Optronix headed down the halls towards the shooting range, where Ultra Magnus was sure to be. The white mech always had a few nerve problems before a job, so he calmed himself down by shooting as many targets as possible, sometimes to the point of sheer exhaustion.

He was not surprised by the sounds of cursing and laser fire as he opened the large double door to the shooting range. He strode along the benches observers often occupied during competitions and tours, making his way towards his white copy.

The mech had his battle mask engaged, and his yellow optics were narrowed in concentration, despite the profanity that escaped from him every time his shot was off.

"Language Ultra Magnus, your superior is present," Optronix teased.

Ultra Magnus ceased firing, spinning to see Optronix standing alongside him. His battle mask clicked back and a look of surprise was written on his glowing faceplate. Optronix grinned in response; not often getting to see is brother off his game.

_He must be really nervous about this job. _The SIC thought privately.

"Oh, slag that," Ultra Magnus rolled his optics, his former alarm melting back down to his usual cool conceited self.

He fired off his last few rounds before disengaging the training routine and subspacing his guns. Optronix raised an optic ridge, knowing that subspacing weapons while on base was not permitted. He knew his brother would never try and pull something, but Ultra Magnus's other superiors wouldn't be as forgiving as he.

"Magnus, you're not supposed…"

"Come to bid me farewell?" his brother cut him off, a sly grin overtaking his features.

Optronix snorted, displeased by Ultra Magnus's deflection. His sibling's grin only grew knowingly.

"I was going to say goodbye, but now I'm not so certain," the red and blue bot turned and began to walk away, only to be followed by the heavy sound of large pedes.

"Come on that hurts Orion," Ultra Magnus swung his heavy arm around his brother's shoulder.

"That was my intention," he snapped back, but slowly grew a grin matching his brother's.

"You know I'll be gone for several orns with this one, right?" Ultra Magnus went from happy to serious faster than Optronix could cycle his intakes.

"I am your superior, it's my duty to know," he nodded.

"You could just humor me and act like your upset by this."

"I could," Optronix chuckled despite his brother's blank faceplate.

"You know who I'm guarding…" his brother's grave tone immediately put Optronix on edge.

"Not off the top of my head," he warily opticed his sibling.

"His designation's Mirage. He's at the top of the top with the high-class snobs with a lot of influence. Sentinel wants me and Cliffjumper to sway him over to the Autobot cause before the corrupt Kaon officials can get to him."

"Cliffjumper?" Optronix raised a surprised brow plate.

"The guys a little fiery and a little more trigger happy than most but…I think he's the right bot for the job," Ultra Magnus shrugged as they walked along the halls.

"How many orns will this mission be again?" Optronix slowed and turned, facing his brother directly.

Ultra Magnus however didn't stop, a wiry grin alighting his faceplate and making the blue lines light it up almost sinisterly.

"See ya later Orion," he waved and then strode off, carrying himself confidently.

Optronix only frowned after him and shook his head, turning around and walking in the opposite direction. He could look up his brother's assignment later.

He pulled the datapad he needed to read from his subspace and stared at it for a moment, wondering if he could get away with not reading it. He sighed, knowing it was a foolish thought.

_I could read this at home though…with Elita. _Optronix's spark jumped within his chest plate as he thought of the femme. They hadn't been spending nearly enough time together, and Optronix was beginning to fear the pink femme was growing tired of waiting for him.

He opened his comm. and informed the base of his departure, reminding them that he would still be available if an emergency sprang up. Once completed, Optronix headed for home, pushing his speed as his anticipation mounted.

He screeched to a halt in front of his apartment and quickly punched in his access code. The lonely security guard gave him a small nod, and Optronix struggled to recall the bot's name.

"Good evening Optronix," he greeted.

"Hello Impactor, had a busy day?" Optronix strode past, thankful he remembered the powerful bot's name.

"Not as busy as I'd like, haven't gotten to boot a single low-life out all day," he grunted, his voice thick and rustic.

"Normally security guards would call that a good thing," Optronix chuckled as he opened the elevator.

Impactor merely grunted in response, but Optronix had learned that that was the way the mech agreed with people. Soon he was zooming up to his apartment, which Elita lived right down the hall from. It was convenient, but sometimes unnerving.

He flung a few things out of his subspace and into his open apartment, not caring about where things landed at the moment. Ultra Magnus, whom he shared his apartment with, wouldn't be home for quite some time with his new mission, and would not be able to gripe about the mess.

Optronix quickly relocked his door and strode down to Elita's door, knocking firmly but softly. There was a moment's silence and then the faint shuffling of pedes beyond the frame. A small scanner ran over him, making Optronix chuckle out of habit. Elita had always been afraid that a thief would one day get the audacity to knock at her door and take her hostage, though in a building full of mostly large mechs, Optronix doubted any thief would try to enter their building.

"Elita," Optronix smirked at the door as it opened.

"I didn't know it was you!" she defended before he could even see her.

"You never do," he chuckled, happy to see his femme.

Elita looked Optronix up and down, almost as if she was in disbelief. Slowly with a tentative servo, Elita reached out and touched his thickly plated chest to confirm that he was really there. Optronix gently lifted his own hand and placed it over hers.

"You're not imagining things Elita," he assured her.

Elita shuttered her optics and shook her head, knocking herself out from her daze.

"I'm sorry Optronix; I'm just not used to seeing you home…at all."

Optronix felt his spark drop like lead within his chamber, hating that he had stressed the pink femme so. She didn't need to be wondering about him all day.

"I should be the one apologizing," he sighed.

Elita tilted her head, as if reanalyzing the mech before her. Optronix couldn't help but shuffle uncertainly beneath her penetrating gaze.

"I might forgive you, if…" a wicked grin slipped across her lip plates.

"If?" Optronix felt his systems heating up.

"If you come in, ya big lug," Elita wrapped both arms around his neck, forcing him to bend down at her level.

The blue and red mech grinned, letting his glowing faceplate light up pleasantly and deliver the femme a kiss. With a steady move Optronix lifted Elita into his arms and carried her into her apartment, shutting the door behind him with his pede.


	9. 9 Jazz

**And we are back with Jazz! Who's excited! Anyone? XD**

Jazz: 9

"_Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."_

_~George Bernard Shaw_

"You want to what!" Cut Edge literally fell over onto the floor, as if Jazz's words had interfered with his equilibrium chip.

Jazz sighed and repeated himself, "I want ta join the Enforcers."

"But mech, you're a hacker, not some police bot," Blaster tried to reason with his friend.

Jazz grinned; amused that his friends were putting up such a fuss. It meant that they really did care about him and his wellbeing. Deep down however, Jazz felt a touch of hurt slipping through his spark, slightly disappointed that his friends didn't understand where he was coming from. He was tired of being behind the scenes in a safe little room with no chance of being caught. He wanted the thrill of being out in the front, snooping around and uncovering the truth firsthand.

"Let him do it guys, Jazz can handle himself," Doubledown interjected, stepping between Blaster and Jazz, "I've seen him in action."

"Yeah? And what if Jazz just got lucky? He's modeled to be a hacker, not a fighter," Cut Edge had finally sat back up, though his optics were slightly dazed.

_I'm so glad he mentioned that. _Jazz merely chuckled, pleased that Cut Edge had brought up that particular point.

"Actually Cutter, I'm modeled ta be a musician," the black and white bot corrected smoothly.

"Mu…sician?" Cut Edge looked dumbfounded.

"Yeah, but it doesn't get the same amount of creds as this job, and I don't want my hobby to become my main function."

Cut Edge and Blaster exchanged uncertain glances, neither quite sure whether to believe what Jazz was saying was true.

"These ridges in my helm are more than jus' for show. They pick up vibrations and convert them into patterned code, which helps me discern the proper beat and play it. Plus no one can sneak up on me, which is why I'm just as suited to be an Enforcer as I am ta be a hacker," Jazz explained.

"Yeah guys, you've been to the club when Jazz and I play," Doubledown smirked.

Blaster crooked a smile, "Actually Doubledown, I think you just dance."

The blue mech shrugged innocently and stared up at the ceiling. They were in Jazz's apartment, just chilling out with some high-grade and low soothing tunes in the background.

Jazz's apartment was a jungle of sparkling objects; most of which made noise; and an optic catching sound system that took up an entire wall. Surprisingly enough his holomonitor was very small, just large enough to see the news or what-not and then move on. Jazz wasn't very into preformed entertainment unless it centered around music, so didn't view his monitor as a place worthy of much attention.

With silver walls and a metallic blue floor, Jazz's home was a place of luxury that ought to have been owned by a high-class snob, not the middle class worker that he was. This also meant that Jazz didn't have the friendliest neighbors, most of them viewing themselves as above him. One mech in particular, by the name of Mirage simply found Jazz's close proximity to his home atrocious.

"Wait, if you want to become an Enforcer; what are you going to do when you become one?" Cut Edge cocked his head.

"Well," Jazz rubbed behind his audios, "I'd still basically be a hacker, but I'd go undercover and do it in the field."

At this Cut Edge fell over again, and even Blaster staggered. Field work was more than a little dangerous, and many brave bots lost their lives because of it. Also most bots that desired the job were gruff and had powerful builds designed for taking a beating. Jazz was small and light, with flimsy door panels that could be easily damaged. Plus with his overly sensitive optics, he couldn't afford to have them broken or else he could very well end up blind with no medic skilled enough to repair them.

"Jazz, are you sure this is what you're meant to do? I mean, you make plenty of credits as it is…" Blaster tried to interject.

"It may not be what I was meant ta do, but it's what I wanna do," Jazz nodded.

Blaster sagged in defeat, but the feisty little Cut Edge didn't appear to be done yet. Before he could start arguing again, Doubledown nudged the minibot

"Come on now Cut Edge, give the mech a break. We have no right telling him what he should and shouldn't do."

At last Cut Edge caved, but he didn't look happy about it.

"Fine, do what you want, but when you get slagged, don't come crying to me," Cut Edge stood up and stormed out, kicking the door when it didn't open fast enough for him.

Jazz couldn't help but flinch. Cut Edge was known for his flaming temper, but the minibot had never actually walked out on him. Doubledown and Blaster both looked at Jazz sympathetically.

_That was…not the reaction I was looking for. _Jazz sighed internally. Externally however Jazz just shrugged his shoulders and rolled his red optics as if he didn't really care that Cut Edge disapproved. He saw Blaster buy the look, but Doubledown looked suspicious.

"I suppose I should bring him back," Doubledown exhaled, knowing he wouldn't be able to confront Jazz any more directly about his personal feelings.

With only Blaster remaining, Jazz turned down the tunes and pulled out more high-grade, perfectly content to drown out his sentiments in the volatile liquid. Before he could take a swig Blaster grabbed his cube and forced him to lower it.

"Hey mech, whatcha doin?" he protested.

"Jazz," Blaster's gaze was level with his own, with his lip plates drawn tightly together creating a very serious look.

_Oh mech, don't tell me he's going to try and lecture me to. _Jazz mentally prepared a few comebacks for whatever Blaster was about to say.

"You're one hundred percent certain that being an Enforcer is what you want to do?" the red mech studied him, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Without a doubt in ma processor," Jazz nodded firmly.

Blaster sat back, a calculating mask overtaking his features and making him hard to read. Jazz had always been good at gauging others; especially his friends; but he wasn't perfect and couldn't tell what Blaster was thinking.

"Well this is a load of cannon fodder," Blaster finally exclaimed with a heavy vent from his intakes, "What am I supposed to do if I don't have a hacker to transmit to?"

Jazz dipped his head guiltily, having already known that his departure would affect Blaster greatly.

_I hope he's not too angry. _Jazz's optics were sealed with worry.

"Oh well, I was going to have to quit eventually," Blaster's tone was cool and relaxed, not at all upset.

"Wha…?" Jazz perked up in amazement.

Blaster grinned keenly, a turbo-fox like look overtaking his features.

"I've been thinking of getting a better job myself. I was going to check out those new Autobots when I heard they needed someone in communications."

"Communications?" Jazz furrowed his optic ridges, trying to picture his friend using open channels to siphon information rather than creating closed ones to send extremely shady information to their current employer.

"Sure, why not? And they want their info secure, so I thought I could do tha, no?" Blaster shrugged and stole Jazz's high-grade, consuming it in one large gulp.

"I guess. I just never pinned ya as the type ta sit behind a desk listenin' ta bots talkin all day," Jazz leaned back and placed his hands behind his head thoughtfully.

"I won't be makin the same amount of creds for sure but, I wanna try it out, see how it fits, all 'ight?" Blaster shrugged.

"I understand that," Jazz nodded in agreement.

"Well, see ya around then Jazz," Blaster stood and handed back Jazz the now empty energon cube, only winning him a frown from the hacker.

With a chuckle Blaster strode out, just barely waving over his shoulder as he exited the door. After a little while Jazz determined that Doubledown would not be coming back with Cut Edge, and so he began to clean up before simply crashing on his couch.

00000

Jazz awoke the next morning to a loud wrapping on his front door. He clicked it open, already knowing who was standing outside without even having to check. Mirage stood in full view, his arms crossed in his typical cold fashion and a frown scarring his perfectly polished silver and blue faceplate.

"Yo Mirage, what's up?" Jazz greeted coolly, knowing no matter what greeting he offered the mech, it would not change his expression. As predicted the noble bot remained unaffected.

"Good morning Jazz, you appear to have just woken up," though Mirage sounded polite and civil, Jazz could tell the mech didn't want to even be making optic contact.

"Sure did; threw a little party last night, but all my guests walked on me!" Jazz grinned widely.

Mirage kept careful control over his reaction, his lip plate only twitching slightly at Jazz's loud enthusiastic voice. The blue and silver mech probably wanted to be anywhere but there.

_These high class guys really gotta loosen up. _Jazz wanted to snicker.

"How…unfortunate," Mirage reset his vocalizer uncomfortably, "Anyhow, I came here to ask a favor of you."

"Oh?" Jazz stiffened.

"You see I shall be leaving Iacon for awhile due to business related affairs, and I need a sitter to check on my cybercat," Mirage began to explain the reason for his presence.

"I see…could ya not find a professional sitter?" Jazz tilted his head slightly.

"I'm afraid this is on such short notice, that my usual sitter was booked, and my back-up is currently on vacation."

Jazz tried desperately not to frown, but his cursed red optics gave away his displeasure anyways. He mentally kicked himself.

"What about th' other neighbors?" he gestured widely.

Mirage snuffed up his nose as if the thought was utterly ridiculous. Jazz waited for his typical speech to begin.

"Those high and mighty buffoons wouldn't know how to wax themselves much less care for a cybercat," Mirage scoffed loudly.

_I take it he waxed himself. _Jazz had to hold back the urge to snicker again. Mirage could sound like such a hypocrite sometimes it was hilarious.

"Now Jazz, I understand that you're a busy mech, so I am willing you pay you top credit for a small amount of your time. All I ask is you feed her and clean up after her. There is plenty of low-grade stored away for her, and she hardly leaves a single room all day."

Jazz crossed his arms in thought, realizing how easy the noble was making it all sound. In his past experiences with cybercats, they were notorious for their hostile nature towards strangers and general coldness towards those they tolerated. He could very well walk into Mirage's apartment and have his faceplate mauled off by fangs and claws.

"I'm not sure…"

"I will pay you half in advance," Mirage seemed to think Jazz could be bribed into carrying for his unfriendly companion.

Mirage pulled out several extremely valuable credits, equaling about half of Jazz's paycheck. It was amazing the blue and silver mech would so easily part with such money.

"Look Mirage, I understand that ya need a sitter, but I don't even know if I'll be home fer half the time you're gone!"

"Please Jazz, I leave in three breems. I don't have time to find anyone else," Mirage was practically begging by now, revealing to Jazz just how much he cared about his cybercat.

_Curse my kind nature. _Jazz sighed and gave into the noble.

"Fine, I'll do it. If I can't get home, I'll have my co-worker check on it for me, how that?"

"Splendid. Here are your credits and my room's combination. I will contact you as soon as I return," Mirage rushed, passing over the valuable credits and a slip with his combination scribbled on it in fine handwriting. It was so elegant Jazz almost couldn't read it.

Suddenly Mirage was gone, having taken off down the hallway to wherever he was needed. Jazz frowned, feeling like he'd been suckered into something.

_The most contact I've gotten from him in a solar cycle and he's gone. He didn't even tell me how much ta feed the thing. _Jazz rolled his optics and resealed his door, subspacing his credits and placing the combination on a counter.

He checked the news quickly, but saw nothing of interest except for an announcement about the possibility of Kaon legalizing it's gladiatorial games. Jazz shook at the thought of such an energon lust filled sport becoming acceptable.

He then headed down to the local Enforcer station. Jazz knew that some of the best resided there, considering where he lived with all the high class, and was probably his best bet at getting the field job he desired. He wondered silently to himself if his credentials would qualify him.

_Well, best to try for a job before quitting the old one. _Jazz stood before the open gate, soaking everything in for a moment before entering.

A few curious glances were cast his way, most of the employees unaccustomed to seeing strange bots that weren't in stasis cuffs walking into their building. Jazz went straight for the special units side of the building, following a few signs until he stumbled upon a large open office filled with a few busy Transformers. Most of them didn't seem to notice Jazz, except for a blue femme seated behind a huge desk. Her plating was thicker than a normal femmes, making her look tough.

"Can I help you?" she inquired quickly.

"Uh yes," Jazz grinned smoothly, "Ya see I was lookin' ta get a job here."

The fembot raised an optic ridge, suddenly growing scrutinizing of the black and white mech. He maintained steady optic contact, knowing that if he looked nervous, he could be sent out on the spot.

"And just what were you looking to apply in, kid?" she wasn't being harsh, but nor did she sound friendly. Jazz suddenly spotted her nametag sitting on the desk. It read, 'Chromia'.

"Field work," Jazz began vaguely.

The blue femme did not look amused by his stalling. "What type of field work hun?"

"Hacking and sabotage," Jazz shrugged lightly, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Chromia leaned forward, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. Jazz waited for her to speak.

"You, doll face, want to go into something like sabotage?" she looked him up and down, as if he were some scrawny minibot, "I've seen mechs twice your size get killed on the first day."

"Well there's the problem. They're too obvious," he grinned coolly, "No one would think ta keep an optic on the small ordinary bot just chillin' ta sum music."

Chromia did not look convinced by his explanation, but she activated her comm.

"Hello, Blackout?" there was a pause as she listened to some jabber, "No Blackout, this isn't about you blowing out the backup generator. No, no, this isn't about you getting caught overcharged on duty either. Blackout, I have a...Blackout, this isn't about that either!" Chromia stood and slammed her fist against the desk, "We have a possible new recruit for the special services division!"

Jazz smirked at Chromia's sake, finding it to be hilarious that she had such trouble with her obvious higher up. The fembot lowered back into her seat slowly, rubbing her head as if she had a cerebral ache.

"If you would just take a seat over there, our head of special services will surely be out to meet you within a breem," Chromia indicated to some chairs not far away. Most of those seated did not look like they wanted to be there; in fact, they looked downright terrified.

_They must be getting interrogated or something. _Jazz assumed as he distanced himself from the shadier characters. _I wonder if it's a good thing or a bad thing that this place is so busy. _

Jazz didn't have to wait too long before a solid black mech, with an obvious copter alt strode in. His optics were red like Jazz's, and this for some reason put the black and white's processor at ease. It was uncommon after all to find other red opticed bots in Iacon.

He stood up as Chromia pointed him out to her boss. The larger mech was quick to grin, and gave an approving nod towards Jazz. He sauntered over to the large mech casually, surprisingly undaunted by his larger frame.

"Blackout, this is…" Chromia paused as she realized she failed to catch the music lover's name.

"Jazz," he filled in for her coolly.

"Pleasure," Blackout extended a hand, which Jazz promptly shook, "Now, if you'd walk this way."

Jazz followed the solid black mech back into his office, which was surprisingly cramped. However this was only due to the piles of unsigned datapads and updates thrown around everywhere. It was obvious that Blackout was an effective slacker.

Blackout took a seat behind his desk, offering Jazz to seat himself as well. He did as he was told, while his optics roamed the crowded space. Hologram projectors were mounted to the right and left of him, while shelves were hung beneath them. On these shelves were some knick knacks, but to Jazz's fascination energon blades and other weapons were thrown amongst them.

_I wonder if those are trophies? _A chill locked around Jazz's spark, but he held it back with a pleasant smile.

"So, what are you here for?" Blackout pressed his fingers together in a civil manner.

"I was hoping to get a job, in field work," Jazz expanded, "like hackin' and sabotage."

Blackout raised a brow plate at this suggestion, quickly looking Jazz up and down in a physical analyzation. Jazz kept himself from fidgeting by tapping his foot to a familiar beat.

"Normally, I wouldn't even consider hiring a bot like you for such work but…" Blackout glanced up at a picture hanging on one of the walls. It was of a young mech with Blackout perched behind him. Judging by his smile, he and Blackout had been close.

"You remind me of somebot. What was your prior specialty?"

Jazz grinned, pleased that he hadn't been thrown out at the building yet. He hadn't expected having such luck with the Enforcers, but Blackout seemed different than the other division leaders. He was looser, more informal.

"I was just a hack; my contract states that I can't say anymore than that," Jazz offered the large mech a red wink.

This made Blackout smile in return, some sort of satisfaction with Jazz's answer settling in him. Jazz wanted to tilt his head, but tried to hold back his curiosity. His optics however betrayed him as usual.

"A former hacker, good with secrets, and a charmer," Blackout chuckled out the last bit, "If you can pass the physical exam, I think a job is in order."

Jazz grinned and nodded, pleased with the ease of the entire situation. This interview was going far better than the one he endured with his last, or as of the moment still present, job.

_Okay, one physical and I'm golden! _He stood up as Blackout stood.

"Walk this way," Blackout motioned.

Jazz followed the larger mech through the base, his optics scanning around curiously. Most of the bots were mechs, to the point where Jazz wondered if femmes existed anymore. Other than Chromia and a few other fembots that had been with her, there were no others.

_Looks like I won't be able to snag a lady around here. _

Jazz suddenly found himself in a large open gym, full of mostly large muscle bots kicking the hell out of stationary equipment and even each other. They all appeared to be the Special Forces, who only went out when things got really bad, like terrorism or hostage situations.

_Ta think the Autobots are giving these guys a run fer there money is incredible. _Jazz admired the brute strength of a particular mech who was a dark red with a heavy mask. A large cannon was installed directly into his chest, meaning his alt was just as dangerous as his robotic mode. For a moment Jazz wondered if it was legal, but then again, he was in the Enforcer's main base. The obvious tank morpher must have had good reason for such an alt.

"Jazz, if you pass, these are the mechs you'll be working with," Blackout informed as he continued to lead him along.

"No kidding," Jazz gaped, suddenly realizing the room's attention was being drawn to him.

"Who's the small fry, BOOM?" the mech that Jazz had been analyzing only astroseconds ago called out in a bellowing voice.

"The next Special Forces hopeful," Blackout chuckled.

"That tiny bot? He's going to get crushed before he even steps onto the training course," a different mech laughed, this one appearing to be a triple changer with a deep red visor.

"Now, now, Blitzwing, don't jump to conclusions," Blackout's gaze became slightly harder, making the larger mech sulk back, "And you to Warpath, get back to work, this ain't a spectacle."

"I beg to differ, YEAH," the red mech protested, but turned away and resumed punching the living daylights out of a heavy sack.

_No wonder everyone was surprised that I wanted to be doing field work. Everyone here is massive! _The black and white mech tried not to balk, but his optics gave him away, making Blackout chuckle.

The pair walked to the far end of the room, passing sparring mechs. Swears and laughter mixed together in a loud roar through the air, forcing Jazz to lower the sensitivity of his audios to keep them from blowing out. As good as they were for sneaking around and eavesdropping, they were very poor for crowded areas with echoing walls.

Blackout opened a large double door once they reached the other side of the room. Jazz was surprised it was not automatic like every other door, and gave him a sense of foreboding.

He followed Blackout into the smaller room, which Jazz was quick to discover was another smaller gym, this one empty of mechs. Chains dangled from the high ceiling and strung up against the walls. The ground was padded with thick stuffing, with many uneven areas from bots falling and smashing the padding to bits. It took a lot of force for such permanent marks to be made.

_Just what do they do in here? _Jazz cringed without realizing.

"Chromia, initiate the obstacle course," Blackout suddenly ordered into his comm.

To Jazz's surprise he saw Chromia's silhouette behind a shell proof window, placed high up on a far wall for obvious observation. Blackout then escorted Jazz over to the right, lining him up with a mark that red, 'START'.

_Just what type of obstacle course is this going to be? _Jazz glanced at Blackout uncertainly.

"Just a fair warning, the shots aren't deadly but they sting like the pit."

"Wha…?" Jazz stiffened.

Blackout left the room before he could get his question out, leaving Jazz stammering over his own words. He was going to get shot at? Suddenly the room began to change and shift, padding folding up in accordance to the new layout of the room, and high columns rising up from the ground around him. Even the door morphed away, explaining why it hadn't been automatic. Pitfalls formed and chains rattled and clinked together as the room took on its final shape. Once the new layout had settled, the guns morphed out from the walls, their layers swing back and forth searching for a target.

"Ah slag," Jazz sucked in a dry gulp.

"_Just make it to the end in one piece, and you pass,_" Blackout's voice suddenly boomed over an intercom.

_Oh sure…no problem. Just don't get blasted in the aft. _Jazz gritted his dental plates, tense and slightly anxious.

"_Begin in, three, two,_" Jazz balled his hands into fists, "_one!_"

Jazz did not take off in a mad dash in hopes of speeding through the course and outrunning the lasers, but instead took a few cautious steps forward. The lasers did not detect him, and instead continued to swivel back and forth, their pointers trained on the ground.

_Okay, just can't walk in the little lights. Shouldn't be too hard. _Jazz analyzed.

With a few careful steps Jazz crept past the first two lasers, completely undetected. He continued through the course, warier now that he couldn't see any lasers. He was about to take another step when he stopped short. He analyzed the ground, keying in on a square cut out from the padding. He tilted his head, certain that it was a trap. Glancing around at the floor ahead, Jazz saw many more of these cut squares, most of them located in the shadows of the columns to make it more difficult to see. He silently thanked the creator that his optics were particularly sharp.

Jazz had to flip to get over some of the cut squares, but it wasn't too difficult, and he was beginning to wonder if that was all there was to it. It seemed far too easy.

_This can't be all it takes…can it? _Jazz dared to question.

As if answering his thoughts, the column beside him suddenly lurched down, making him jump back in surprise. His jump caused him to accidentally step on a square, which indented underneath his weight.

"Slag that!" Jazz jumped forward, narrowly avoiding a laser shot triggered by his misstep.

_Can't let that happen again. _Jazz glared up at the other columns, readying himself for more to move.

Chains rattled as more columns sunk down into the ground, going far below the surrounding ground Jazz was standing on and creating deep pitfalls, that if he fell into, he would not be able to climb out of.

Then the floor began to shift and groan, before rising up together. Jazz darted forward, glancing up at the ceiling as it grew closer and closer. He transformed into vehicle mode, gunning it for a pit to avoid being smashed by the fast approaching ceiling.

At the last moment he dived into the pit, transforming back into robot mode and snatching a chain attached to the ceiling. Sudden realization to why there were so many chains made his optics widen. He held tight to the chain until the walls around him began to lower again, returning to their original position.

_What type of obstacle course is this? If I can't move fast enough, I'm sheet metal! _Jazz swung back and forth on his chain before flipping through the air and landing back on what he prayed was solid ground.

He stood stock still, debating his next move. He had no idea what other types of traps blocked him from his goal, and how dangerous they would be. Remaining still however carried its own danger, for a sensor suddenly pinpointed him and open fired.

Jazz yelped as a shot skimmed his shoulder, forcing him to dive for cover, which happened to be over the ledge of a nearby pit. He gripped the sides until the firing stopped, now unable to locate its target. Locking his feet against the pit's wall, Jazz shoved off and flew backwards, only to spin through the air and grab the opposite wall. From there he pulled himself up and resumed his navigation through the course, analyzing even the minutest detail that could spell danger.

As if Primus was on his side, Jazz managed to make it through the rest of the course with little incident, his observational skills allowing him to see every trap laid out, and his fast reflexes saving him from the ones he didn't see.

He crossed the finish line with a leap, avoiding the energon blade from a mechanical arm protruding from a nearby wall. His intakes cycled heavily, and his pedes felt as though they'd been worn down to the frame.

He rolled his shoulders and loosened up his joints, relieved the trial was over and done. Then Blackout suddenly emerged from a different door, which Jazz realized was actually the same door, just now located on a different side of the room.

"Congratulations Jazz, you are officially a Special Forces Enforcer. Just go to Chromia, and she can get all the data work filled out for ya," the black mech winked.

Jazz smirked, his optics alight with a newly restored vigor. He had done it; he had beaten the odds and become an Enforcer. He couldn't wait to tell the news to his friends.


End file.
